Stormy
by Sharma Wild
Summary: Set after the end of Season 2. Dean and Sam goes after a creature that kills and feeds on young women. But, as Sam discovers, things get a bit more complicated than that when he finds himself attracted to one of the would be victims. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

The hideously decorated motel room was blissfully dark. Deep shadows loomed in every corner subduing the brain-numbing, kaleidoscopic wallpaper.

At least that is something to be grateful for, Dean thought wryly, staring at the wall in front of him.

He sat on one of the two narrow beds, a half-empty bottle of JD in his hand. His short hair was tousled after he had mindlessly run his fingers through it time and time again, his eyes that usually held a mischievous spark was dark and dull, his sensuous lips were pressed together in a thin line, the jaw set, shoulders slumped. He looked as if he had been carrying the world on his shoulder and dropped it.

He was wracked with guilt.

The truth about his father's death, the fact that John Winchester had made a pact with a demon, that he had died instead of Dean... it was eating him up inside. It was torture - and not the fun kind.

And there was no way he was going to tell Sam. The kid had been through enough.

"Take care of your brother", dad had always said. And Dean had done his best. _Take care of him..._ John had whispered before he died. _Be strong, Dean. Don't hesitate if it comes to that..._

_That._

Just the thought of turning a weapon against his little brother was enough to make him tremble. Was enough to make him curse and hate his father for leaving, for dying when it should have been him.

Dean lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swallow. The whiskey was liquid silk in his mouth and fire in his throat.

To die... To be at peace, free from this world's mortal coil...

Dean longed for it, for the silence, the end of the nightmares. But John Winchester had tied him to life with bonds of blood and duty. And he hated him for it. And loved him.

The sound of the door being unlocked woke Dean from his gloomy thoughts. He looked up just in time to see the turquoise door (Turquoise? Who the hell had thought it was a good idea to paint the door turquoise when the wallpaper where swirling dots and lines of pink and orange?) open.

A head of tousled brown curls led the taller body of Deans 'little ' brother into the shadow cast room. Rays of purple neon invading the open space from the motels cheap blinking sign.

"Sammy…" Dean drawled in a slightly hoarse voice, his fingers lingering on the much shorter haircut, the bottle rising to his full lips. Sam stopped just inside the door closing it… locking it… without a second thought. His soft brown eyes taking in his older brother, the only one he allowed to call him 'Sammy'. Noting the dark circles under his eyes .The tight line of his lips.

"What?" Dean asked in mild annoyance as Sam's eyes followed the bottles motion from mouth to lap.

Sam shook his head softly, his tall form leaner almost gangly compared to Deans shorter stouter body. He stayed by the door his eyes taking on that wild colt eyed roll as he flashed on the last few months.

He was in college ...had a beautiful girl ... had a _life_... But all that was over now, he was back hunting with his brother who seemed more a stranger than family at times. And their father only a week gone... Tears burned the back of his eyes, blurring his vision as he moved suddenly to sit on the rickety bed across from Dean, grabbing the bottle he took a long harsh swig as Deans eyes widened ...

_"I had the most ...terrible dream _" He finally whispered as his eyes met those of his brothers...

Dean's eyes were suddenly filled with life, with concern. "What kind of dream, Sammy?"

"I dreamt... I dreamt you never got the car fixed and we ended up having to drive a Volvo. It was beige." Sam shuddered. He was rewarded by a pale smile, then the smile faded like a ray of sunshine behind a dark cloud.

"What did you really dream about?" Dean asked, deftly taking the bottle of JD from his little brother's hand.

Sam shrugged a little. "About fog."

"Fog?" Dean said with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow. "That doesn't seem so scary to me."

"It wasn't the fog itself", Sam said, trying to find the words to describe the eerie and frightening dream. "It was something beyond the fog, something dark... and there were sheep there. Dead sheep..."

"Do you know were this 'there' is?" Dean asked regarding his brother carefully.

Dean shrugged. "It was somewhere near the sea. I could smell the salt and the seaweed in the air." His eyes grew distant for a moment. "Maine..." he said slowly. "I think."

"Yeah, that narrows it down", Dean remarked taking another gulp from the bottle.

Their eyes met again and for that second Sam glimpsed pain, uncertainty… and something else in Dean's ocean green orbs.

"Dean…?"

A phone went off making them both jump. Breaking their revelry, stopping Sam's questioning gaze much to Dean's relief.

He snapped open the high tech cell phone sitting the bedside table among numerous wrappers and food cartons. At least he was still eating Sam noted.

"Yes this is Mr Hazerac." He grinned at Sam's eye roll. "What? Where? " Silence then as Sam tensed up, looking at Dean with rising anxiety.

"We don't have a car just yet", Dean threw in suddenly his face darkening for the wrecked car he loved so dearly, waiting patiently at Bobby's junkyard for some restitution…

"You're kidding… Ok…Ok. We're on it Bobby"

Dean snapped the phone shut, leaning it hard against his strong jaw line, his eyes piercing as he met Sam's.

"What?!" Sam exploded for the burning look.

"Mansion Maine… dead sheep… dead girl ...poltergeist" He drawled in a dark tone.

Sam shrugged his lean shoulders, an innocent expression lighting his boyish face. "I don't know what to say Dean..." He smiled a little "Are we driving a beige piece of shit Volvo?"

"Gee, I don't know that yet Sammy… we're meeting Bobby at daylight in the junkyard." His face softening a little for the pain shadowing Sam's hollow eyes.

It wasn't a beige Volvo that met them as the came up to Bob's house in the junkyard - it was something worse, much, much worse.

"I am not driving that!" Dean groaned eyeing the orange Beatle that shone brightly like a child's toy in the sunlight.

"There you are, boys", Bobby said, wiping his oily hands with a dirty rag.

"You can't be serious!" Dean exclaimed, pointing at the little car as Sam looked on in amusement.

"She's a real beauty", Bobby said, patting the hood of the offending car affectionately. "She's everything a man would want - dependent, fast and charming." He grinned.

"She is butt ugly", Dean pouted.

Bobby shrugged. "She'll get you to Maine in one piece, safe and sound."

"But-" Dean started but was interrupted by Sam.

"Thanks", he said, his voice soft. "For everything, Bobby."

The man shrugged again. "Nuthin' to talk about, boys. I've filled the tank and there's some food in the back. It should get you started."

"Thanks, man", Sam said again.

"I'm just going to..." Dean trailed off and wandered away.

"So", Sam said, watching his brother following the trail that led behind the house. "What can you tell me about this poltergeist?"

~*~

"Hey, baby..." Dean mumbled, running his fingers gently over the Impala's exposed engine. She was a wreck and it felt as if someone had took a knife and stabbed it straight through his heart seeing her like this. "I have to go away for a couple of days", he continued, speaking in the same soft tone of voice. "But I'll be back. I'll get you back in shape in no time..."

The sound of footsteps made him turn to see Sam come walking towards him. The sunlight created golden highlights in the soft curls that always fell down the boy's forehead.

"Are you ready?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. But I'm still not driving that... that... _thing_."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll drive."

They started walking back to the front of the house. "So, Dean asked as they reached the car. "What did Bobby say about the poltergeist?"

"It would seem its female, has a thing for offing sheep during the yearly round up and spring move from one side of the fields to the other…" Sam opened the little cars door, struggling with the seat adjuster as he spoke.

Dean walking over to the passenger side leaned over the top of the tiny car slipping his night dark shades in place as Sam struggled with the seat. "And?" he asked impatiently as Sam's head bobbed up into view, his face red from fighting the seat.

"Well it would seem this particular poltergeist has started on humans in the last year… count is three young women to date." His head disappeared again as he bashed at the seat trying to move the rusty slider.

"Pretty young women?" He heard interest rise in his older brothers voice as the seat screeched in protest moving at last.

His head shot up into Dean's view again. "Get you mind out of the gutter Dean!" He snapped at Dean's mischievous white smile. The near black sunglasses hiding the twinkle in his eyes.

"Lets go" Sam sighed impatiently sliding into the car. Dean slipped into his seat cursing the tiny space.

Sam gunned the engine giving them both a nice whiplash as they pulled onto the road waving at Bobby as the car jerked across the pavement.

Not ten minutes later Dean was reaching into the backseat for one of the brown bags Bobby had placed there.

"Oh no you don't Dean", Sam said irritated. "That's got to last more than an hour bro"

"Oh c'mon Sam I just want to see what Bobby got us." His upper body now wedged between the two tiny seats as he prowled through the sacks.

Sam punched him non-to softly in the ribs, satisfied at the resounding grunt. He swerved purposely back and forth on the small country road trying to get his brother stuck... and just for a moment, that very moment all was right with his world…

"Dude!" Dean exclaimed, and there was more joy in that sound than Sam had heard since before the accident and the death of their father. "Chocolate covered raisins, Three Musketeers and moon pies!"

"Put it back, Dean", Sam said smiling, though he struggled to keep his voice stern.

"You're such a kill-joy", Dean said, his mouth filled with chocolate. "Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"You do, on a regular basis."

Dean settled back in his seat, scoffing down chocolate.

Sam glanced at him, at the chocolate bar in his hand. "Give me some of it."

His older brother grinned. "Only if you say the magic word."

Sam threw him a scathing glance as Dean gave him the eye over his black rims. Taking a slow deliberate bite of the sweet chocolate he mouthed it with mass exaggeration.

"Oh Christ… _please_", Sam moaned, really wanting a piece of that bar. Dean grinned leaning a bit to offer a bite of the bar.

Sam snapped fast, taking the last of it and almost Deans fingers with it.

"Hey watch it Sammy!" He yelled in mock surprise, shaking his nibbled fingers, that wonderful smile returning even if briefly. Sam wished he could change their past… really, really wished he could.

Dean settled into the tiny seat his knees rising up across the dashboard, his head bobbing before long as he fell asleep. Sam drove as so many things kept washing back and forth across his mind… He still hadn't told Dean about _those_ dreams; the vision of the yellow-eyed demon surfacing in his mind. He shuddered as if cold… Why was he seeing this creature every time he fell asleep now?

Was it coincidence since their father's death, or his mind over-reacting? He wish it were the later… but he had a terrible feeling in the pit of his gut it was very real… or about to become so.

Hours passed and Sam watched as they passed the Maine state-border. Darkness was falling and a slow rising fog came up as Dean stirred in his seat.

Dean stretched as best he could in the cramped space, then looked out through at the fog that rolled in to soften lines and corners.

"I thought your dream took place on an island", Dean said, nodding towards the large sign that read: 'Welcome to Mansion - the friendliest little town in Maine.'

"Yeah..." Sam said, pushing his foot gently against the pedal so that the car slowly rolled forward. "Maybe I was wrong... I mean, dreams aren't known to be logical and..." His voice trailed off. "This fog. Something feels wrong."

Dean could sense it too. It was as if something hid in the thick fog. Something... dark...

They slowly rolled down the main road, passing the dark windows of closed shops. Nothing moved.

Maybe that was it, Dean thought. Maybe the silence and the stillness simply spooked them. But he wasn't going to get lulled into a false sense of security. Dad had trained him better than that.

They stopped in front of what looked like an abandoned hotel.

"So..." he finally said, "are we just going to sit here or are we going to step out of the car and find a room for the night?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam killed the engine and yanked the car brake up between them, both getting that alerted and wary gleam of the eye. Both checking their weapons at beltlines and pouches of salt in pockets as they sidled out of the tiny car. It glowed like a frigging Halloween pumpkin against the dull white fog.

"Can I help you boys?" A sensuous voice asked as they whirled around to face it, both laying nervous fingers on gun butts.


	2. Chapter 2

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

"I dreamt... I dreamt you never got the car fixed and we ended up having to drive a Volvo. It was beige." Sam shuddered. He was rewarded by a pale smile, then the smile faded like a ray of sunshine behind a dark cloud.

"What did you really dream about?" Dean asked, deftly taking the bottle of JD from his little brother's hand.

Sam shrugged a little. "About fog."

"Fog?" Dean said with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow. "That doesn't seem so scary to me."

"It wasn't the fog itself", Sam said, trying to find the words to describe the eerie and frightening dream. "It was something beyond the fog, something dark... and there were sheep there. Dead sheep..."

"Do you know were this 'there' is?" Dean asked regarding his brother carefully.

Dean shrugged. "It was somewhere near the sea. I could smell the salt and the seaweed in the air." His eyes grew distant for a moment. "Maine..." he said slowly. "I think."

"Yeah, that narrows it down", Dean remarked taking another gulp from the bottle.

Their eyes met again and for that second Sam glimpsed pain, uncertainty… and something else in Dean's ocean green orbs.

"Dean…?"

A phone went off making them both jump. Breaking their revelry, stopping Sam's questioning gaze much to Dean's relief.

He snapped open the high tech cell phone sitting the bedside table among numerous wrappers and food cartons. At least he was still eating Sam noted.

"Yes this is Mr Hazerac." He grinned at Sam's eye roll. "What? Where? " Silence then as Sam tensed up, looking at Dean with rising anxiety.

"We don't have a car just yet", Dean threw in suddenly his face darkening for the wrecked car he loved so dearly, waiting patiently at Bobby's junkyard for some restitution…

"You're kidding… Ok…Ok. We're on it Bobby"

Dean snapped the phone shut, leaning it hard against his strong jaw line, his eyes piercing as he met Sam's.

"What?!" Sam exploded for the burning look.

"Mansion Maine… dead sheep… dead girl ...poltergeist" He drawled in a dark tone.

Sam shrugged his lean shoulders, an innocent expression lighting his boyish face. "I don't know what to say Dean..." He smiled a little "Are we driving a beige piece of shit Volvo?"

"Gee, I don't know that yet Sammy… we're meeting Bobby at daylight in the junkyard." His face softening a little for the pain shadowing Sam's hollow eyes.

It wasn't a beige Volvo that met them as the came up to Bob's house in the junkyard - it was something worse, much, much worse.

"I am not driving that!" Dean groaned eyeing the orange Beatle that shone brightly like a child's toy in the sunlight.

"There you are, boys", Bobby said, wiping his oily hands with a dirty rag.

"You can't be serious!" Dean exclaimed, pointing at the little car as Sam looked on in amusement.

"She's a real beauty", Bobby said, patting the hood of the offending car affectionately. "She's everything a man would want - dependent, fast and charming." He grinned.

"She is butt ugly", Dean pouted.

Bobby shrugged. "She'll get you to Maine in one piece, safe and sound."

"But-" Dean started but was interrupted by Sam.

"Thanks", he said, his voice soft. "For everything, Bobby."

The man shrugged again. "Nuthin' to talk about, boys. I've filled the tank and there's some food in the back. It should get you started."

"Thanks, man", Sam said again.

"I'm just going to..." Dean trailed off and wandered away.

"So", Sam said, watching his brother following the trail that led behind the house. "What can you tell me about this poltergeist?"

~*~

"Hey, baby..." Dean mumbled, running his fingers gently over the Impala's exposed engine. She was a wreck and it felt as if someone had took a knife and stabbed it straight through his heart seeing her like this. "I have to go away for a couple of days", he continued, speaking in the same soft tone of voice. "But I'll be back. I'll get you back in shape in no time..."

The sound of footsteps made him turn to see Sam come walking towards him. The sunlight created golden highlights in the soft curls that always fell down the boy's forehead.

"Are you ready?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. But I'm still not driving that... that... _thing_."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll drive."

They started walking back to the front of the house. "So, Dean asked as they reached the car. "What did Bobby say about the poltergeist?"

"It would seem its female, has a thing for offing sheep during the yearly round up and spring move from one side of the fields to the other…" Sam opened the little cars door, struggling with the seat adjuster as he spoke.

Dean walking over to the passenger side leaned over the top of the tiny car slipping his night dark shades in place as Sam struggled with the seat. "And?" he asked impatiently as Sam's head bobbed up into view, his face red from fighting the seat.

"Well it would seem this particular poltergeist has started on humans in the last year… count is three young women to date." His head disappeared again as he bashed at the seat trying to move the rusty slider.

"Pretty young women?" He heard interest rise in his older brothers voice as the seat screeched in protest moving at last.

His head shot up into Dean's view again. "Get you mind out of the gutter Dean!" He snapped at Dean's mischievous white smile. The near black sunglasses hiding the twinkle in his eyes.

"Lets go" Sam sighed impatiently sliding into the car. Dean slipped into his seat cursing the tiny space.

Sam gunned the engine giving them both a nice whiplash as they pulled onto the road waving at Bobby as the car jerked across the pavement.

Not ten minutes later Dean was reaching into the backseat for one of the brown bags Bobby had placed there.

"Oh no you don't Dean", Sam said irritated. "That's got to last more than an hour bro"

"Oh c'mon Sam I just want to see what Bobby got us." His upper body now wedged between the two tiny seats as he prowled through the sacks.

Sam punched him non-to softly in the ribs, satisfied at the resounding grunt. He swerved purposely back and forth on the small country road trying to get his brother stuck... and just for a moment, that very moment all was right with his world…

"Dude!" Dean exclaimed, and there was more joy in that sound than Sam had heard since before the accident and the death of their father. "Chocolate covered raisins, Three Musketeers and moon pies!"

"Put it back, Dean", Sam said smiling, though he struggled to keep his voice stern.

"You're such a kill-joy", Dean said, his mouth filled with chocolate. "Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"You do, on a regular basis."

Dean settled back in his seat, scoffing down chocolate.

Sam glanced at him, at the chocolate bar in his hand. "Give me some of it."

His older brother grinned. "Only if you say the magic word."

Sam threw him a scathing glance as Dean gave him the eye over his black rims. Taking a slow deliberate bite of the sweet chocolate he mouthed it with mass exaggeration.

"Oh Christ… _please_", Sam moaned, really wanting a piece of that bar. Dean grinned leaning a bit to offer a bite of the bar.

Sam snapped fast, taking the last of it and almost Deans fingers with it.

"Hey watch it Sammy!" He yelled in mock surprise, shaking his nibbled fingers, that wonderful smile returning even if briefly. Sam wished he could change their past… really, really wished he could.

Dean settled into the tiny seat his knees rising up across the dashboard, his head bobbing before long as he fell asleep. Sam drove as so many things kept washing back and forth across his mind… He still hadn't told Dean about _those_ dreams; the vision of the yellow-eyed demon surfacing in his mind. He shuddered as if cold… Why was he seeing this creature every time he fell asleep now?

Was it coincidence since their father's death, or his mind over-reacting? He wish it were the later… but he had a terrible feeling in the pit of his gut it was very real… or about to become so.

Hours passed and Sam watched as they passed the Maine state-border. Darkness was falling and a slow rising fog came up as Dean stirred in his seat.

Dean stretched as best he could in the cramped space, then looked out through at the fog that rolled in to soften lines and corners.

"I thought your dream took place on an island", Dean said, nodding towards the large sign that read: 'Welcome to Mansion - the friendliest little town in Maine.'

"Yeah..." Sam said, pushing his foot gently against the pedal so that the car slowly rolled forward. "Maybe I was wrong... I mean, dreams aren't known to be logical and..." His voice trailed off. "This fog. Something feels wrong."

Dean could sense it too. It was as if something hid in the thick fog. Something... dark...

They slowly rolled down the main road, passing the dark windows of closed shops. Nothing moved.

Maybe that was it, Dean thought. Maybe the silence and the stillness simply spooked them. But he wasn't going to get lulled into a false sense of security. Dad had trained him better than that.

They stopped in front of what looked like an abandoned hotel.

"So..." he finally said, "are we just going to sit here or are we going to step out of the car and find a room for the night?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam killed the engine and yanked the car brake up between them, both getting that alerted and wary gleam of the eye. Both checking their weapons at beltlines and pouches of salt in pockets as they sidled out of the tiny car. It glowed like a frigging Halloween pumpkin against the dull white fog.

"Can I help you boys?" A sensuous voice asked as they whirled around to face it, both laying nervous fingers on gun butts.

Sam's mouth dropped open and Dean smiled at the lovely black haired woman smiling at them. Her body curvy within the sheep's wool coat hugging her form. The full-length coat brushing the edges of her high heel boots.

"Uh", Sam stuttered as she smiled with amusement looking at the car. "Wow I haven't seen one of these in years, " she drawled in a singsong voice.

"It's his! " Both brothers said simultaneously, pointing at each other.

'And a sense of humour too" She laughed and extended her hand, pale slender fingers crowning it. "I'm Marissa," she breathed as Dean quickly took her hand .Sam rolling his eyes at his brother's audacity

"Jason Bates", he introduced himself, lying smoothly. "And this is my brother Freddy."

"Hi", Sam said with a little nod.

"Are you here about the murders?" Marissa asked, smiling at them both with perfectly painted red lips.

"Yeah." Sam frowned a little. "How did you know?"

The woman laughed, a silvery sound that seemed to echo in the fog. "Why else would anyone visit Mansion this time of the year. Are you reporters?"

"Correct", Dean said with his most charming smile. "It's like you can read minds."

Marissa laughed again, then lifted her graceful hands to her temples. "Hmmm... I sense that you are in need of shelter... and food..."

"Correct again." Dean's smile widened. "If you guess right one more time you win the prize."

"What prize?" Marissa asked, tilting her head a little.

Sam had had enough. "Is there anywhere else to stay in this town?" He asked before his brother could make any indecent proposals.

"There is a motel just north of here", Marissa said. "The Alhambra Hotel is only open during the summer."

"It seems as if the entire town is only open during the summer", Dean commented.

"That's not far from the truth", Marissa replied. "And it's been even more quiet since the murders. The poor girls..." She said, shaking her head sadly. "Who is capable of doing something like that..."

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

"Yeah, it's awful", Dean said, turning his eyes back to the lovely woman. "Could you give us the directions to the motel? We wouldn't want to get lost in this fog."

"Of course." Marissa smiled at him. "Just follow the main road through the centre of the town, then turn left on Castle Rock Lane and you should be able to see it."

She turned on her high heel; winking at Dean as she moved away in slow motion strides "Oh the Goats head bar is open as well, just down the road. You'll pass it on the way. " Her tone was all invitation as she sauntered away with a lick of her upper lip.

Dean was still smiling when Sam flicked his ear.

"Ouch", he bit out turning to follow Sam back to the car. "What's your problem Sam?" he snipped as they pulled away from the deserted Hotel.

"I don't know what you mean," he snapped softly yanking gears as they moved into the thickening fog.

He felt Dean's eyes boring into him.

"Its not your fault she died Sam", he said more softly. "Time to move on."

"Look Dean…" Sam said through gritted teeth picking up speed as he spoke. "Maybe you can just blow off everything as it happens but I cant!" He was yelling by the time he got the last word out.

"Whoa spinster boy, I don't blow anything off", Dean retorted heat creeping along his neck in an angry line. "I just know how to handle it, alright? For Gods sake slow down!" he yelled back amazed the bug could go faster than 50.

'Why don't you just shut the F-" Sam started to scream when sheep came skittering across the road in front of them.

Only Dean's lightning fast reflexes saved them from hitting the animal. He grabbed the wheel and forced the car to make a sharp turn to the left.

"Damn!" He breathed, looking over his shoulder out through the back window as Sam hit the break. The sheep stood mindlessly munching grass by the side of the road.

Sam was still staring straight a head, his face grim. "I'm sorry if I can't bounce back fast enough for you", he said. "You and dad... you always had your missions... your quests..."

Dean slowly turned to look at his brother. "What are you talking about, Sammy?"

"I know how much you must miss him", the younger boy continued, his voice calmer now. "You always had a certain closeness. Like you shared something special."

_You_, Dean thought, silently studying his brother. _We shared you, Sammy..._ He sighed. "We're both tired... let's just call it a draw and continue to the motel, okay?"

But Sam shook his head. "No, Dean. We have to talk about this. We've both been through allot... and I don't believe you are handling it as well as you want me to believe-"

"Enough with the Dr Phil-bullshit!" Dean snapped. He felt as if there had become a crack in his carefully constructed mask. "I _am_ handling it, mom's death, dad's death, everything! Maybe I don't go touchy feely all the time like you, but that doesn't mean that I'm bottling everything up. I wont end up in a water-tower with a sniper rifle if that's what you think."

Sam said nothing to this. Simply stared at his brother with his jaw set, eyebrows knotted.

"Just drive to the frigging motel, will you?"

Still keeping quiet Sam released the break and the car slowly gained speed again.

They didn't speak for the rest of the way; instead both brothers' were deep in thought.

Through the fog the light coming from the bar with the name the Goat's Head seemed gloomy and somehow tainted. As they drove past the place the door was thrown open and a man almost tumbled out. He managed to catch his balance in that overly dramatic way that only the very drunk uses. And then they turned the corner and saw the blue neon light from the motel's sign.

Mansion Motel didn't differ from any other motel they had stayed in. The lobby was an orgy in green carpets and cherry wood, a promise of things to come, Dean thought with a small shudder.

They signed in using the same names Dean had used when he introduced them to Marissa.

"Room 13, gentlemen", the man behind the counter said, handing them the key. "I hope you have a good night."

Sam managed a pale smile and a nod. They followed a badly lit gangway until they found the right door.

"Lucky number 13", Dean mumbled as he turned the key, opened the door and flicked on the light. The bright blue carpets that stood out starkly against yellow walls. The headboards on the two beds were made of cherry-wood, and so was the small table and chairs that had been placed by the window. The curtains were a lovely shade of green. "Cosy", was his only comment.

Sam tossed his bag onto a bed. Turning toward the door.  
"Where you heading?" Dean asked casually as he plumped the sagging bed with strong fingers, hoping it would feel better than it looked.

"Cant sleep", Sam said quietly, pulling back the dusty curtain to gaze out into the fog.

"When was the last time you slept more than a hour?" Dean asked just as quietly. "Sammy? I asked you a question." He nudged a little harder.

Sam looked at him over his shoulder with dark eyes. "Dunno a couple days I guess." He turned back afraid Dean might see something he was missing in the dreams.

"Christ Sam". Dean stood up. "And I let you drive, Why not?"

Sam tried to smile. "Just bad dreams OK?"

"OK", Dean nodded, knowing he wasn't getting any where either.

"Lets go ask some questions then." He smiled suddenly clapping Sam on the shoulder.

"Goats Head Bar?" Sam asked.

"Goats Head Bar", Dean returned, checking his weaponry.


	3. Chapter 3

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

"At least I haven't gulped down half a bottle of Jack Daniel's", Sam said as they locked the door behind them and headed of in the direction of the bar.

"What?" Dean asked, for a second wondering what the hell Sam was talking about.

"Back at the Blue Moon Motel, before Bobby called", Sam specified. "You were sitting on the bed drinking whiskey as if it were Pepsi."

Dean gave him a weary glance. "So?"

"So you are in no shape for driving."

"At least I wasn't the one almost smacking into a sheep", Dean retorted. The he sighed. "Look, Sammy. I don't want to fight with you. We have a job to do, remember? Let's just get it over and done with and then I'll be happy to play Dr Phil and Ophra with you."

"No you wont", Sam muttered as they continued walking down the dark and empty street. "You'll just continuo pretending that everything is okay."

Dean pretended not to hear.

As they approached the bar they could hear the sound of music blaring out into the night, a little muffled by the fog that still was thick enough to make them both feel strangely separated from the surrounding houses.

"Seems like my kind of place", Dean said with a grin when he recognised the sound of Judas Priest's Breaking the Law.

They opened the door and stepped inside.

Dean gave his coat lapel a James Dean shake as he walked inside grinning. "Target rich environment." He drawled checking out a couple of lovelies standing at the end of a well worn counter.

"Yeah and your the broken arrow", Sam smirked as they planted themselves at a table marred with cigarette burns.

"You're a funny boy", Dean grinned as he waved down a haggard young waitress. "A double shot of Jack, neat for me", he said smoothly.

"A beer", Sam replied when she looked at him. "There's allot of girls in here", he said his gaze roving over more than a dozen fairly young women.

'Isn't it great!" Dean added exuberantly.

"No Dean its not", Sam returned lowering his voice as he leaned closer.

The waitress returned and Sam straightened up as she eyed them suspiciously. He cleared his throat and sat back.

"Beer for you …" she said handing Sam a tall glass, "double Jack neat for you." She smiled warmly at Dean. Picking up the bills Dean flicked onto the table.

"Seriously Dean", Sam was leaning against the table. "Isn't it odd for this many young girls to be in here? I mean where are the guys?"

Dean motioned for the waitress again and when she returned to the table he gave her that charmer's smile. "I'm not complaining or anything", he said. "But where are all the men-folk?"

The girl moved her big lump of bubblegum from one cheek to the other before answering. "If you are into men you have to go to Studs down by the canal. That's where all the gays hang out."

"Not what I meant, sweetheart", Dean replied. "Usually in a place like this there goes ten guys per gal."

"Oh." The girl looked around the bar with as if she had first noticed the lack of men. "I guess they're all at the town hall, at the meeting. You know, because of the murders."

"Murders?" Sam said.

"Yeah." The girl popped her gum. "They found Laura's body like last month. At first everyone thought it was an accident, but then they found Jenny's body and now little Bronwyn's." Chew, chew, move the gum. Pop! "It's really awful. And you know the worst part of it?" She continued, her eyes wide. "Mrs Miller says it looks as if someone has torn pieces of flesh from the bodies... _with their teeth..._" She whispered dramatically. "Like some sort of monster or something."

"No!" Dean's eyes widened in feign shock. Though the horror he felt and the compassion for the poor unfortunate victims were far from feign. "And who is Mrs Miller?"

"Sheriff Miller's wife."

"No wonder there's a meeting", Sam said.

"Thanks for the info, honey." Dean winked at the waitress who actually blushed as she walked away. "Well", he said, turning to his brother. "I've never heard about a poltergeist trying to eat people."

"I've never known Bob to be wrong", Sam replied.

"So what do you think we're dealing with?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged and took a swallow of beer. "What do you think?"

"It's very uncommon for poltergeist to actually kill people, or sheep..." He ran his fingers through his hair, eyebrow knotted. "There is something familiar about all this."

"The fog, the murders?" Sam asked.

"It reminds me of something I've read in dad's diary." Dean shook his head in annoyance. "I just can't remember exactly what it is..." He took the glass and downed the amber liquid.

"Yeah, drinking more is going to help", Sam commented wryly. "We should just go back to the motel room and check out dad's dairy."

"Not yet", Dean said, eyeing the other customers.

"Why not?" Sam started, but then it dawned on him. "Oh, you are looking for that Marissa, aren't you?"

"What if I am?" Dean replied with a shrug. "She seemed friendly enough. Maybe she could help us-"

"Help _you,_ you mean", Sam interrupted him.

Dean turned darkening eyes to him. "I thought we've already covered this."

"We've covered nothing Dean absolutely nothing", Sam stated sadly, downing his beer he rose up "I'm going to the head", he mumbled without looking back.

Dean watched his lanky form shuffle towards the back of the bar, sitting back with a heavy sigh. He looked into his empty shot glass ...haunting words tumbling across his bruised mind.

"Looks like you could use a friend", the soft voice he already recognized said over him.

Dean looked up slowly to see Marissa standing with a skin hugging dress riding the higher side of her slender thighs. Her long black hair a soft silken mass over one shoulder contrasting against the crème coloured material, her perfect red lips curving into a generous smile.

"May I?" She asked of Sam's vacated seat.

~*~

Sam was tired… so tired. He wanted to sleep but he couldn't. What if he dreamed of someone else dying? What if he dreamed of _i._

A flash of horrid yellow eyes flitted across his fragmented mind.  
He stumbled over to the sink turning on the water he splashed his pale face over and over before reaching for a paper towel half blinded by the water.

He almost screeched like a girl when his hand met another.

"Sorry", a small voice said. Sam turned to find a girl, maybe one or two years younger than him, standing beside him. "You looked like you where going to faint or something."

"No..." He managed, recovering quickly. "I'm fine."

"You're dripping."

"Wha-?" He looked down at the front of his jeans.

"Water, silly. Here." The girl handed him a handful of paper. She was a short little thing with big blue eyes and that hair colour that the glossy fashion magazines call either golden copper or honey-red. She was very pretty.

"Aren't you a little too young to hang out in a place like this?" Sam asked once he had dried off.

"Too young to be in the loo?" The girl asked innocently.

"Too young to be in a bar", Sam corrected her.

She shrugged smoothly, eyeing him. "I could say the same about you. What's your name?"

He hesitated for a split second recalling the cover-name Dean had given him. "Freddy Bates", he said. "I'm here with my brother Jason."

"Freddy and Jason Bates", the girl said, a smile curling her lips. "Don't tell me, you're waiting for your brother Norman to join you and then you are all going over to Mike Mayer's to party the night away. What's your real name?"

Sam could actually feel a blush creeping up to colour his cheeks.

~*~

Dean leaned back in his chair, taking in the vision before him. Marissa was all milky skin, cream coloured silk and black hair.

"Like what you see?" she asked, her voice sensuous, her eyes never leaving his.

He smiled at her obvious invitation. "What is a girl like you doing in a small town like this?"

She pouted. "I was expecting a compliment..."

"Alright", Dean leaned forward and took her hand, his fingers tracing a pattern over the silken skin of her wrist. "You are the most beautiful woman I have seen in a very long time", he said. "And I'd love to know what your lips taste like."

~*~

Sam couldn't help but smile back suddenly, the colour rich across his pale cheeks.  
"How about your name?" changing the subject on her. His hand going up to brace himself against the door jam. Leaning closer to her he breathed her in…

She looked him up and down brazenly, before her big blue eyes settled on his as she answered. "Stormy, and it is my real name… at least part of it." She smiled again and for just a sweet moment Sam felt as if he could touch her… maybe kiss her…

He dropped his arm, turning away. "Nice to meet you, Stormy", he mumbled on the way out. Ripping lean fingers through his damp hair he stopped cold as Dean leaned across their table planting a solid kiss to Marissa's mouth.

~*~

"Wow…" she breathed against his lips. "You know what your doing don't you… Jason." Her heavenly eyes going golden green.

"How about a drink… Marissa", Dean murmured back, a familiar tightness threatening the crotch of his black jeans as he shifted in his chair.

"Ill have whatever your having." Her seductive voice followed by long tipped fingernails trailing up Deans arm.

~*~

Sam did a about face catching the surprised girl Stormy by the arm. Dragging her lithe form against his chest as she gasped. "Let me start over, my name is Sam, pleased to meet you. Can I kiss you, Stormy ?" He asked feeling like he was going crazy and she was an outlet...

Her mouth fell open, and what a pretty mouth it is, Sam thought, to form an O. "But I..." she started and then took a deep breath and started again. "Okay."

He leaned in, struggling to keep his raging emotions in control, sensing that the girl, brazen though she appeared to be, still was quite innocent when it came to carnal pleasures. He pressed his lips gently against hers and felt her relax against him, leaning into his embrace.

Sam's eyes fluttered close as she opened her mouth to him, allowing him to taste of her, to drink her deeply. When they parted it was her cheeks that was burning.

"Wow", she said, taking an unsteady step back, her eyes deep pools of blue under fluttering eyelashes. "Nice to meet you, Sam."

He grinned. Feeling like a normal young man for the first time since he had left the university. "Nice to meet you, Stormy."

Her hand fluttered up to her collar bone where a small silver cross hung.

"Would you like something to drink?" Sam asked. "A beer?"

Stormy wrinkled her nose. "How about a coke? I'm saving my alcohol-début for another night."

Sam found himself grinning at the dry remark. "A coke it is." He offered her his arm like some gentleman in a romance novel, and felt silly when he realised what he did, but Stormy saved him by taking his hand in the most natural way, as if they had been friends and holding hands for years instead of just meeting for the first time.

As they re-entered the bar, Sam glanced at the table and found it empty.

"Who are you looking for?" Stormy asked.

Sam shook his head. "No one... that is to say my brother. I guess he found his entertainment for the night."

Stormy turned to him. "Is that what I am?" She asked softly. "Entertainment?"

"No", Sam said, looking down into her upturned face. "No", he repeated softer. "You're..." he smiled, trying to come up with the words that would describe what he had felt when he had kissed her. "You're... My life is complicated", he finally said. "And I wouldn't want to drag you into it. It really felt good kissing you", he hurridly continued. "Like a wonderful dream."

Stormy smiled at this, and in her smile Sam thought he could see a flicker of something familiar but it was gone before he knew if he had seen it there or if it was just imagination.

"Buy me a coke and then let's dance", she said, leaning against him, raising up on the tip of her toes so that she could rest her head against his heart for just a second.


	4. Chapter 4

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

The alley behind the Goat's Head looked like any other alley behind any other bar. Dean had seen a lot of them.

He buried his fingers in Marissa's luxurious hair and closed his eyes focusing on the sensation of her lips against his of her hands struggling with the buttons of his shirt. Finally she simply ripped it apart, sending the buttons flying.

"You feel so good", she mumbled, running her fingers over his chest, raking her nails across his nipples causing him to shiver.

The fog was still thick, still enveloping them. And now it had a tangy, salty smell.

"Strange", Dean mumbled.

"What?" Marissa asked, smiling at him.

"I think I can smell the sea."

She laughed. "You think you can smell the sea at a time like this? Honey..." She whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him close. "I think you think too much..." She claimed his mouth again, savagely nibbling at his lower lip.

A moan escaped Dean's lips as he returned the favour, slipping his tongue deep into the wealth of her soft mouth. The scent of sea almost cloying now as his fingers roved over her firm high set breasts.  
He pulled his head back, some deep set sense banging an alarm across the nape of his neck, hairs catching attention as he pulled Marissa way from his face.

"What on earth is the matter with y-"

Her voice grinding into a low grunt as something slammed into her from behind Knocking Dean off balance, tripping over backwards he fell with the full weight of Marissa coming down on top of him. Her mouth going slack, blood poured from her lips onto his face and throat as he struggled to get out from under her… freezing still as a creature came into focus above them. An apparition become to real flesh and bone as it leered down at him with huge clawed hands, mouth filled with jagged teeth. The smell of ocean becoming a rank rotting fish odour. Its eyes glowing an eerie green.

His mind struggled with the concept of what it was as it began moving closer leaning over the woman's body as if deciding where to bite first.

_Fideal_. It came to him in a rush as the female appearing creature laid teeth to the back of Marissa's body. He had heard once long ago his father fought such a creature of ocean legend.

Dean listened in a sickened state as flesh was ripped from bone.

No!" He screamed, shoving Marissa quivering body off his. Flinging salt that had broke open in his pocket at the foul stringy haired being. It hissed but seemed unaffected by the salt. Its lips snarling as it wafted back into shadow, unwilling to fight the male of Dean's species ...

He sucked in a huge breath, looking down at Marissa torn body. "Jesus, this is just friggin great!" Turning fast as headlights caught up his face in the bright glow. His blood spattered face and chest a neon call sign.

~*~  
"Mary Mother of Jesus, what the hell is going on back here!" Sheriff Miller spit out past the wad of beechnut chewing tobacco packed in his cheek. His plump hand reaching for the shotgun as Dean slipped through the back door into the Goats Head Bar. Willard loaded for bear as they hit the brakes and leaped from the police car, lights flashing vivid colours over the dead girl's body.

~*~

Sam gazed into Stormy's soft sweet eyes as they slow danced to Nazareth's 'Love Hurts'. Their bodies swaying gently together.

"I can't believe how sweet you are" he said, feeling lame for the sappy words.  
She only smiled happily tightening her arms around his waist.

The sudden scream broke through his revelry like a chainsaw against his head.  
He turned letting go of the girl as Dean shirtless and spattered in blood, shot across the bar-room. The bubble gum chewing bar-girl letting go another shocked screech for the trail of blood he left along the way.

"Oh shit Dean!" Sam grabbed his brother by the arms. "Are you hurt?!" Gasping in relief as the shaken man shook his head furiously.

"I'm fine. But we gotta go. Now, Sam!"

Sam needed no more prodding, this was a scenario that had happened once to often to them as they scattered for the front door. Sam gave the delicate girl a lopsided grin. "Was nice meeting you, Stormy", He called out feeling lamer than ever as he put the footwork to the floor.

"Stop right there you murdering bastards!" The good deputy Willard called out with mighty authority, rasing the shot gun chest level just as the Winchester boys got to the front door. Sheriff Miller stood next to the younger man, completely blocking the way with his bulky frame, his own shotgun too aimed at the escaping strangers.

"Look sir", Sam started, but the click when Willard cocked the rifle silenced him. Dean's hands were already in the air and his younger brother followed his example.

"Oh my god!" The waitress shrieked. "Is it them?! Are they the monsters that killed Laura and the others?!"

"Shut up, Beth!" Sheriff Millard snapped without letting his attention waver from the Winchester boys even for a second.

Suddenly Stormy came up to stand beside the Sheriff. "No..." She said, her eyes lingering on Sam's face before she turned to the Sheriff, putting a small hand on his arm. "It can't be them. They just got here. You would have seen them in town had they been here earlier. It's not them, Sheriff."

The man relaxed somewhat, not really lowering his shotgun but at least he wasn't pointing directly at Dean's head anymore.

"I think you two boys better come down to the station with me", he said. "Give a statement and then... we'll see."

"Thanks", Sam said, realising his bent up breath.

Stormy just smiled at him.

As the Sheriff herded them out the door, Sam glanced over his shoulder. He could still vividly recall the feeling of the girl's lips against his, the way her petite body felt in his arms as they danced. He wanted to grab a last glimpse of her, something to remember.

Stormy stood in the same spot as before, accentuated by the old spotlights that lit up the patch of open floor that served as dance floor. Her copper coloured hair was set aflame by the light and the simple grey dressed looked like the mysterious shroud of some long lost Goddess.

"What are you smiling about?" Dean demanded when they were sitting side by side in the back of the police car.

"I hade a good time tonight", Sam said.

"Yeah, that's great. I'm so happy for you", Dean drawled.

"No yapping back there!" The Sheriff commanded, eyeing them in the rear-view mirror.

"Sorry, Sheriff", Dean said.

When the man didn't start the engine the brothers shared a glance.

"Is something wrong?" Sam asked.

The sheriff looked up again to meet the young man's imploring eyes in the mirror. "No, no..." he said. "It's just that... I have to call the Doc to get down here, to take care of the body. Are you related to the woman?" He asked Dean.

"No. I just met her. I thought she lived here in town."

Miller shook her head. "I've never seen her before in my life."

"She said her name was Marissa", Dean said slowly, stunned and unable to hide it. "I never thought to ask for a last name. She showed us the way to the motel when we arrived here a couple of hours ago."

"I am sorry", Miller said, a little softer. "I got a good look of her face and I can swear on a stack of bibles that I've never seen her before. Did you perhaps see the killer?" He asked, there was a hesitation in the burly man's voice that made Dean share another glance with his brother.

"You know what it is your hunting", Dean said, it was a statement and not a question.

The Sheriff turned in his seat so that he could face the two young men in the back of his car. "I know it isn't human."

Dean's face looked haggard in the pale light spilling from the bright blue juice-mixers on top of the car. The splatter of blood across his face looked black, sinister. "It's called Fideal", he said. "A sort of sea creature."

"Sea?" The Sheriff asked. "But we're miles from the sea here."

Dean shrugged. "I know what I saw."

"Fideal..." The Sheriff mumbled, rubbing his forehead. He suddenly seemed very tired. "What else do you know about it? And how come you know about the existence of such creatures at all?"

Dean turned to his younger brother. "It's your turn to do the explaining, Sammy."

"We're Hunters", Sam said. "We hunt down and kill things like this Fideal, and ghosts and..."

"Demons, shape-shifters, vampires", Dean filled in.

Sheriff Miller just nodded. "Hunters you say..."

Dean shifted a little in his seat. "I'm guessing we're not the first ones you met."

"Why would you think that?"

"People usually say things like 'Ghosts and demons don't exist. You must be crazy'."

Miller smiled a little. "Not much get passed you, does it, son?"

"Not much", Dean agreed.

"But you're right", Miller continued. "I met a hunter when I was still working as a Depute back in Derry. It's.... oh, fifteen, sixteen years ago. There was something attacking the children. At first we thought it was a paedophile, using some sort of drug that put the children in a coma... But how wrong we where..." He shook his head, his eyes growing distant as he thought back to the horrific events.

"What was it?" Sam asked in that soft voice of his.

The Sheriff turned to him. "A sort of demon, never found out what it was called. This man helped us. Damn", he chuckled. "He came rolling into town in this big black car like some hero out of an old western. John Winchester was his name-"

"Dad?" Sam exclaimed. Dean gave a low whistle.

"Talk about coincidence", he said.

Sheriff Miller regarded them with new interest. "John Winchester is your father?"

"Yeah", Dean said. "I mean... he was."

"He died a little over a week ago." Sam could feel the now familiar pain of loss and grief tearing at his heart again.

"I'm sorry to hear that, boys", Miller said. "Your dad, he was a very special man. A good man." Before they could respond a white car drove in to the parking lot. "Here is the Doc now", Miller said. "I'll just talk to him for a minute and then I'll take you boys back to the motel."

"I thought we were going to be interrogated down at the station", Dean said.

Miller smiled. "I don't think that will be necessary now. Not unless you absolutely want me to."

"Nah", Dean replied with a small grin. "I can survive one evening without having been thrown in jail."

"Alright then." Miller stepped out of the car to talk to the tiny little man that was trying to coax a large doctor's bag out the passenger seat of his car.

"So..." Dean asked with feign disinterest. "What's her name, Sammy?"

"Who… what?" Sam mumbled his eyes on the Doctor as the bent figure headed toward the back of the bar followed by a babbling Deputy Willard. The Sheriff waving him off to explain what the boys had disclosed.

"Sam", Dean said, his gaze steady as Sam turned his head to finally look at him, really look at him. Fear and pain had his usually grey brown eyes a solid dark grey.

"You scared the shit out of me Dean..." He mumbled with tight control on his emotions. "I-I dont think I could liv- I mean handle it if anything happened to you." His brow was knotted his lips tight as he stared back into his brothers eyes.

"Sammy…" Dean murmured, squeezing the young mans shoulder. "I'm not going to die… at least no quicker than you." That charming gleam jewelling his gold flecked eyes as he gave Sam a shake.

Sam shook his head but managed to come down another notch from overload land, taking a deep breath the scent of dried blood was not a great odour wafting off Dean.

"What did you see of this thing, Dean?" He asked as his eyes roved over the blood flecked skin of his upper torso.

"Well she wasn't my type, too many fangs and talons. Plus she doesn't like men." He grinned, dealing with it the only way he knew how. "Talk about ruining a good time… that bitch!"

Sam had to laugh then.

"Oh and she didn't seem bothered by salt in the least", he added as an after thought.

"Great one of our best weapons… useless", Sam added. Dean was smiling at him still.

'What!" He burst out.

"You didn't answer my question and she's walking over here right now." Dean couldn't have been happier for the way Sam's face lit up as he caught sight of copper red hair floating in the breeze.


	5. Chapter 5

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

~*~  
"Well Ill be damned", Sheriff Miller breathed as he bent over the spot Marissa's had died. "Where the hell did she go?" He looked around nervously, his fingers smoothing over the well worn hilt of his 45.

Willard was playing out an Ace Ventura, gun out, moving left to right in exaggerated motions, scanning the dense shrubbery close by.

"Just what was I dragged out of bed for?" Came the irritated voice of the bony doctor, shoving his spectacles higher across his thin nose as he lifted Deans bloody and mangled shirt into the air.

Miller scratched his head. "I am sorry, Doc. But I swear that there is a body."

The doctor nodded sadly. "Another dead girl? Who?"

"Someone named Marissa. No one from town."

"Do you think the monster grabbed her?" Willard asked, his eyes widening with youthful enthusiasm.

Miller sighed. "There is no monster." Keeping up the masquerade was important. If people found out that he thought the killer to be some sort of beast taken right out of a horror movie they would think him insane. "But, yes Willard. The killer might have taken the body." He got an idea. "Why don't you look for clues, dust for fingerprints and try to find DNA-" Before he even had time to finish the sentence Willard had run back to their car to get his beloved CSI-kit out of the trunk.

The doctor shook his bald head. "He is a great kid that one, dumb as an oxen, but great. So, what are you going to do about this... what did you say again?"

"Fideal." Miller shrugged. "I think I'll let the Winchesters handle it as long as they are discreet."

The Doc glanced at the two figures in the car. "They're just boys, Henry."

"So where we when we crawled through the jungles of 'Nam, Doc."

"True." The two men shared a glance. Then the Doc threw the cigarette he had smoked on the ground and placed a foot on it, extinguishing it.

"If they should need medical intention, God forbid, take them to me. To my house, not the clinic."

Millard nodded. "I better get them back to the motel before the meeting at the town hall is over. Be careful, Doc."

The short man smiled, showing a shadow of the young man he had once been. "I always am, Sarge."

~*~

The copper haired girl opened the door allowing Sam to step out of the car.

"No handles on the inside", he said, thankful for the darkness that hid his shame of the lame comment.

Stormy smiled at him. Before she could say anything Dean too climbed out of the car, nearly toppling his brother over.

"This is my brother", Sam said. Why, oh why do the lamest things fall out of my mouth? He thought desperately.

"So this is Jason Bates, the psycho killer from outer space", Stormy said with a grin, eyeing the blood that spattered Dean's face and chest. "Nice outfit."

Dean ignored her for the moment in favour of glaring at his gangly younger brother. "You blew our cover?" He hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"It was a stupid cover, Dean", Sam replied. "She figured out the names Jason and Freddy Bates weren't real ones." He turned to Stormy again. "You have to forgive Dean. He is a jerk at times, he just can't help it."

"Older brothers are suppose to be jerks", Stormy said with a shrug. "I think it's the law." They smiled at each other, eyes locked.

"Shheesh" Dean rolled his eyes, suddenly annoyed with the doe eyed pair, dragging dirty fingers over his short cropped hair.

"Winchester", came a low worried voice behind him as an infatuated Sam and Stormy whispered to each other.

Dean turned to face the sheriff noticing deputy Willard fidgeting at his back. "What's going down Miller?" He asked eyeing the doc struggling to shove his over large bag back into the car.

"Christ sakes, Willard help the doc already!" Miller near bellowed, sending the heavy set man running for the doc's car. "Your girl is gone…" Miller said soberly having turned back to Dean. He spat a stream of tobacco juice across the dusty pavement.

"The Fideal?" Dean asked his fingers lingering on a strained point at the back of his neck. He felt cold all the sudden.

"Possibly", The Sheriff handed him his coat and held up his blood stained shirt in a plastic bag. "Mind if we run samples on the blood?"

Dean shook his head as he shrugged into his coat. Stepping closer to the Sheriff he did a nervous nose scratch as he said in low tones. "You think you can trust us like you trusted our father?"

"Tell me what I need to know, boy", Miller replied spitting another stream of juice.

'We're wanted by the FBI", Dean said frankly. "Not because we did anything wrong…"

"...was only percieved that way." The sheriff finished for him, nodding in understanding ."Tell ya what Winchester, I figure I already owe your father one and two. If you boys stop this thing, you'll always be safe in my jurisdiction." He winked at Dean's thin smile.

"I got your back, son" Miller said warmly as Dean turned to find Sam. He nodded at the man over his shoulder turning to find Stormy held close to Sam's lean form. Both smiling as he grinned at Sam who ignored his wink.

"How about a ride back to the hotel" He said all affable and sweet.

Sam looked at Stormy hesitating as he took her delicate hand in his. "Um would you care to .."

"I'd love to go", she smiled beautifully before he could finish.

"Great!" Sam grinned as they made their way to the pumpkin patch car.

"This is your car?" She snickered.

"It's his", both men said at the same time, pointing at each other.

"It's adorable." She laughed managing to squeeze in past the bags in the tiny back seat.

Sam gave Dean a look as they drove out onto the road.

"Oh be careful for the sheep on the road", Stormy said pressing into the two front seats to see Sam better.

Dean laughed sharply, earning a scathing look from Sam. "Yea, Sam watch out for those sheep!"

Sam jerked into another gear giving everyone a little whiplash. Dean sneered and Stormy giggled.

They pulled into the gloomy parking lot with Dean hoping out without a backward glance, heading for a blissful shower.

Sam felt awkward having this pretty young girl in front of a hotel… _Christ,_ what was he thinking!

"Umm, want to come in?" he asked, lamness pounding in his skull.

"Sure", Stormy said, unafraid as she smiled at him.

"Umm, yea I think we got some soft drinks in there…" He thumbed at the door nervously.

She laughed softly. "OK… Don't worry Sam, I won't bite."

"Oh! I wasn't worried about that… I thought maybe you were thinking I would." He felt heat and colour rising high across his cheeks.

She shook her copper clad head gently standing on tiptoes to give him a kiss. Sam felt a warm jolt of heat of a different kind raze his stomach as he wrapped his arms around her, picking her off her feet and kissing her deeply. It was wonderful.

Setting her down carefully, he caught the motel curtain swinging shut from the corner of his eye. "_Brother…_" he mumbled taking her hand and taking her inside the mundane room.

Dean was just closing the door to the bathroom.

Sam sat on one of the beds after finding a couple cans of coke, cracking the first one to hand her as she sat beside him.

"So Sam, tell me more about you and your brother?"

Sam sputtered over a mouthful of his coke. _Let's see, we are what's left of a dysfunctional family, our parents killed by demons. Hunters by trade, we kill vampires, demons, werewolves… lots of blood and gore, blah, blah blah..._

"Sam?" She asked more softly, her eyes meeting his in that wild colt roll.

"It's... it's complicated", he finally said, taking another mouthful of coke, trying to wash away the bitter feeling of having been cheated out of a normal life.

"It's okay", Stormy said, wrapping her fingers around his hand. "Really it is."

"Tell me something about yourself?" Sam asked, looking into her sweet blue eyes that seemed to hide secret depths.

Stormy smiled a little, a blush colouring her cheeks. "There is not much to tell. I was born here in Mansion, I've lived here all my life. When I was twelve my uncle took me to Disneyland and I fell in love with Prince Charming and wanted to move into the pink castle. I'm just a small town girl."

"What about your parents?" Sam asked.

Stormy looked away, shaking her head.

"Hey", Sam said softly, gazing on the graceful curve of her neck, the delicate shell-like lines of her ear. "It's okay", he said mimicking her words.

She turned her head and met his brown eyes that seamed to hold so many more nuances than just brown; she could see the grey of storm clouds in them, the dark swell of a night time sea.

"Do you want to kiss me again?" She asked, looking shy all of a sudden, her fingers playing with the silver cross that hung around her neck on a dainty little chain.

"Yes" Sam said softly his hands already pulling her into his embrace. He felt in his heart they shared something of life's cruel jokes as she tilted her face up to his. Her slender fingers slipping from the cross..

Taking her mouth tenderly with his, she opened up like a sweet flower taking him in as her own tongue vied his for desire.

His hands slid along her ribs, long fingers kneading them as he tightened his hold on her pulling her onto his lap. "Is this alright?" He whispered against her lips, her eyes drowning pools of color warmed with pleasure.

"Yes", she murmured, her fingers finding thick soft curls at his neck, entwining them and tugging softly.

Sam bit back a moan as heat filled him to the core, his fingers sliding across her stomach moving up to the pert line of her breasts. Slipping over the soft material of her dress, teasing them until he felt her back arch.

Stormy felt his rising desire against the tight fabric of his jeans pressing against her, she found herself wiggling across his lap, driving another stifled moan from his lips. It felt obvious he was by no means… small.

Sam felt her heart pounding like a caged bird against his hand. "H-Have you ever done this before, Stormy?" He asked softly against the delicate counch of her ear. He wasn't sure were this was leading, but he felt such urgent need, such desire to delve into her warm sweet body...something he had not done since his girlfriend died that horrible death in their room back at College.

"No..." She whispered. Her fingers came up to touch the cross again. "I'm Catholic."

"I see", Sam breathed.

"I'm sorry if I disappoint you", the girl whispered. Sam had to smile at this.

"Disappoint me? That's silly, Stormy." He bent down planting a kiss on her forehead. "There is other things we could do without going _there_..." He emphasised his word by gently grinding their bodies together. "If you want to."

Instead of saying anything she claimed his mouth, eyes closed and arms wrapping themselves around his neck. Her tongue darted out to explore, to play.

Soon they were both moaning softly, gasping with pleasure as fingers travelled over silken skin, taught muscles and soft curves.


	6. Chapter 6

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

Dean stood in the shower, eyes closed, smiling. Even through the sound of the water running he could hear the gasps and the moans and the giggles. It were good sounds. After everything Sam had been through... it was the best sounds he had heard in a long time.

"Lucky bastard", Dean mumbled still smiling.

But as the minutes dragged on he grew impatient. Did Sam really think he was going to spend the entire night in the ugly bathroom while he enjoyed himself in bed?

Enough was enough, Dean decided. Besides he was starting to get wrinkle-toes and wrinkle-fingers. He turned the shower off, making as much noise as he could stepping out of it and wrapping a towel around the waist. He cleared his throat loudly, counted to three, hoping the kids would at least have the sense to crawl under the covers, or something.

Then he opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Stormy…" Sam breathed heatedly against her throat. Gasping when she went all bold clenching the hardness bulging at his crotch, pleased at the harsh moan catching in Sam's throat. "Maybe we better slow down", He gasped. Already both her breasts were revealed in all their pink tipped glory. Half dressed they swarmed over the bed. Nibbling tickling growing more brazen as fingers became bolder across warming flesh.

"Oh Sam… It never felt this right when boys tried to touch me before… I just couldn't let them… but you…" Stormy whispered, her eyes as wild as her name. Sam was over her, gazing down at her flashing storm eyes, her lips pinked and swollen from their bruising kisses. "It just feels right…" She whispered huskily slipping the velvet dress over her head to toss to the floor.

"Oh god, Stormy", he whispered as she pushed her fingers into the wealth of his falling curls dragging his face, his body onto hers. Her fingers undid his pants, her toes tugging down the pant legs freeing him into those curious trembling fingers.

Her eyes going wide she gasped as her fingers felt the hard long length of him.

"We can stop", Sam managed to whisper, his control on the edge.

"No..no" She moaned as her fingers explored him. "I'm tired of waiting… tired of not knowing… and it's with you Sam…" She held him all too close to her inner thigh and he felt the heat there so close… so tantalising close…

"Stormy", he whispered again, taking her mouth as her thighs opened allowing him entrance. He took her suddenly, one hard smooth stroke and she screamed in pain filled pleasure just as Dean came into the room.

"Ahhh shit! Sorry!" Dean yelped. His fingers clenching the damp towel clinging to his lean strong hips.

Sam's breath exploded from his throat in a sort of strangled cry as he saw his brother standing by the door, a smirk on his lips. Stormy had scrambled for cover under the blanket, one arm sneaking out to snatch the dress that lay on the floor.

"Sorry", Dean said unable to contain his glee.

"No you're not", Sam managed. He felt Stormy wriggling as she pulled on her dress. It was torture.

"Did I... interrupt something?" And yes, there it was that sardonic lift of eyebrow, that mischievous sparkle in the green eyes that told Sam that Dean knew exactly what he had interrupted.

He just sighed and pushed himself up in a more comfortable position.

Stormy stuck the tip of her nose over the covers, eyeing Dean with big blue eyes, still sparkling with the aftermaths of the desire that had driven her into Sam's arms.

"Hey there", Dean said, smiling at the red roses that adorned her cheeks. "Eh... I was just going to, you know, get dressed and then get some food. Is there a burger joint or something that's still opened?" He asked the girl.

"There's a Micky D's a couple of blocks from here", Stormy said, her voice dampened by the fact that half her face was still hidden beneath the covers.

"Gotcha'", Dean blinked at her. He managed to pull on a pare of jeans without loosing the towel, that he trew over a chair. Pulled on a t-shirt grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "Can I get you crazy kids anything?"

They both shook their heads.

"See you in a couple of minutes then", he said putting a hand on the doorknob.

"Be careful", Sam said before he disappeared through the door.

Dean turned and gave him a smile. "I always am, little brother."

He closed the door behind him, locked it and then stood there for a moment listening to the explosion of giggling coming from the other side.

As he moved across the parking lot, not even glancing at the ugly little car. The alcohol level in his blood was still way to high. Instead he continued down the street in the direction Stormy had nodded.

The fog was still thick as wool, giving an eerie dirtiness to the light coming from the street lamps. Once again he got that feeling, that spidery tingle down his spine, as if the entire town were haunted. And perhaps that wasn't far from the truth, he thought, remembering the Fideal. Remembering Marissa.

Her body had disappeared. Why?

Dean shoved his hands deep into his pockets and continued towards the golden arches that burned like a Lighting house in the distance.

Bobby had said it was a poltergeist, and here he had met a Fideal. It didn't make sense. Unless the poltergeist activity had nothing at all to do with the killings or the sea creature.

Even though he was deep in thought, Dean's attention to his surroundings did not waver. He was like a soldier, always moving through enemy-territory.

He didn't think the Fideal would come after him, it was targeting women after all. But that didn't mean there wasn't other baddies around.

As he turned around a corner he got a waft of that almost sickening oceanic smell again, and found that he had made his way to the canal.

Arched bridges connected the streets the canal cut through. On the low brick wall that was suppose to protect people from falling into the dark water something was scribbled in red. There was just enough light coming from a street lamp for him to read the graffiti as he walked past it:

PENNYWISE LIVES.

Dean chuckled. Someone in this town sure had a morbid sense of humour. He could recall the killer clown known as Pennywise in the Stephen King novel 'It'. And there was a couple of similarities between the fiction and the murders here in Mansion, like the fact that the bodies had had bite wounds...

~*~

"I told you my brother was a jerk", Sam managed once he had recovered from the attack of the giggles. He was still aching with unspent need, a throbbing ache that made the jeans he had pulled back up feel uncomfortably tight.

They sat there quiet, looking deep into each others eyes for a moment, then Sam said softly: "The moment has passed, hasn't it?"

Stormy looked down and nodded. "I'm sorry."

But Sam put a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so that their eyes met again. "You have nothing to apologise for. Did I... did I hurt you when..." His voice trailed off.

Stormy blushed. "A little", she admitted. "But it felt wonderful at the same time." She grinned. "You're right, your brother is a jerk."

Sam grinned back at her, then leaned in and gave her a deep kiss, full of promise. "Maybe there will come another moment for us."

"I hope so", the girl said a little breathlessly.

Sam rose and pulled on his shirt. "Come on", he said, offering her his hand and pulling her up onto her feet. "I better take you home."

"Can't I stay?" Stormy asked, snuggling close to him as he helped her with her green coat.

"I'd love to have you there in my bed all night", Sam said. "But my jerk of a brother will be back in a couple of minutes."

Stormy smiled at this. "Yeah..." She took his hand, entwining their fingers in that natural way of hers as they stepped out, locking the door behind them.

As they walked towards the car Stormy asked: "How long will you stay here in Mansion."

"I dont know", Sam said. "It depends on the..." He silenced.

"On the what?" Stormy asked. "Or is that part of the things you don't want to talk about?"

"In away", Sam replied, feeling a little uncomfortable, not wanting to have to lie to this girl and at the same time wanting to protect her from the truth of the life he was leading. He finally settled for some sort of middle-ground between the two. "Dean and I are looking for someone."

They had reached the car and Sam opened the door to the passenger's side. Stormy took her seat. "I see", she said, looking up at him.

Sam moved around to the other side of the car and slipped in behind the wheel. "Where to", he asked.

"Just follow Castle Rock Lane until you come to the church." She smiled at him. "You can't miss it."

~*~

Deans senses came alive as he felt eyes on him, whirling he pulled his 7m from the back of his waistband, moving slowly in a tight circle.

"Come out, come out, where-ever you are", he chided softly, his eyes darting across shadow and shrubbery. His gun eye level.

"You don't need the gun… Dean", came an all too familiar voice. He turned back to the bridge watching as Marissa moved in silent grace from under its eaves.

She was perfect again, no blood, no wounds, a different dress how-ever of Crimson silk moving with every curve of her body.

"No", Dean said setting his jaw, gun amied at her head. "You died. Christ! You died on top of me."

"I cannot die", She whispered in a musical voice taking another step closer.

"Stop", Dean said, his gun cocking meant business. "Or I'll shoot and I'll make damn sure that you stay dead, you undead bitch. What the hell are you anyway? Some sort of goul or something?" His eyes widened. "The Fideal!"

"Perhaps", she said her fingers grazing over the rocky bridge edge. "Perhaps I am cursed to live and die over and over and over…"

"Just what the hell does that mean?" he demanded keeping a safe distance between them.

She gazed at the lettering on the bridge. "They are not entirely wrong in this", her Gold -Green eyes shining as she looked back at him. "But it is not me you need fear."

"I'm not afraid of you", Dean said with a quirk of his head, loosening his ever tightening shoulders.

"Good then…" She drawled softly. "If you kill the Fideal you will set me free. It is because of me she now kills the females because I will not die as I should have."

"Stop talking like someone out of a damn theatre play!" Dean felt like his head was going to implode trying to understand her.

"She… the Fideal… is my sister. We were born of the sea as twins."

"Sorry, honey I don't see the likeness", he drawled, gun still high.

"Of course not ...this body is not my own as hers is"

Dean's eyes widened. "I kissed you!" He scathed as if a sudden bad taste were in his mouth.

She laughed softly. "I can keep this body living as long as I inhabit it, no matter how often she tries to kill me Dean." Her face was suddenly sad, weary, tired.

"No offence but why would you want to give that up after all if you look like…"

"Listen to me Dean!" she barked cutting him off. "It doesn't belong to me, don't you see?"

Dean's eyes widened as he began to understand. "The Poltergeist."

"Yes Dean, she roams the fields of her fathers land. Kills his sheep with fear because no one knows what happened to her. I have her body, my soul is trapped now, just as hers has no place to go as long as her body lives."

"But no one recognizes you ...or her, whatever", Dean said with a shake of his head.

"Because she was only twelve at the time of her disappearance… I took her body, changed it, made it mine. That was over 2 decades ago… and God, how humans forget…" her head dropped, her voice faded. "Look in the library archives and you will find her picture after her disappearance."

"I could just kill her body and burn it." He said mirthfully, gun becoming more pointed.

"It wont do you any good as long as I'm part of it, Dean!" She was suddenly agitated. "You have to kill the Fideal, my sister to free us both!"

"Why the hell is she… it killing girls here now?" he demanded of her insane story.

"Because I led her here by accident, she followed somehow over time this far from sea ...and now she is a vengeance with a never ending hunger." Marissa stepped forward, rays of dusky moonlight glinting off her face. Dean watched her eyes change into oceanic colours as if the very sea was within them. "We were worshiped as Goddess once, our beauty then is no more, it has died with our legend Dean. We belong here...no more."

She held out her hand, laying on her palm was an object. "Take it Dean as it is the only thing that will kill her and set us both free."

Lowering the gun he took a few careful steps closer, looking at what she held. A tiny dagger made of mother of pearl, simple with the swirling colours of the rainbow glinting across it.

"This is it? This will take down that...that .." He could see pain in her eyes for what he was about to say changing then mid –sentence "Fideal?"

"Do not be deceived, hunter", her voice was changing becoming prismatic touching all around him. "It may look small but it is powerful enough to slay a goddess of the sea."

Dean reached out cautiously taking the delicate; near sliver of a knife. It was incredibly sharp as he found when it nicked his palm.

"Have a care, hunter", she mused in a most beautiful tone.

Dean looked from the dagger to her, a crooked smile lighting his face. "You say you were more beautiful than even this?" his eyes taking in the lovely form she was of.

"At one time… over 5,000 of your years ago, Dean… yes."

She stepped back then a smile on her face. "Why do you think I took this form when I did ? Arrogance, beauty and pride can ruin even a Goddess Dean."

"Wait!" He said tucking the tiny dagger in his pants as she turned to leave. "How will we free the girl after your gone?"

She turned, her face flashing something dark and evil making him take a swift step back. "Her body will be as it was, before I took it, on edge of her fathers land."

"Oh great", he mumbled for the wide clarification.

"And Dean."

He looked up but could no longer see her.´

"It is possible she could take another form...as well"

Dean stood in silence for a moment his eyes going wide. Sam, he had to find Sam!


	7. Chapter 7

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

"The church?" Sam repeated.

"Yes… why?" she asked with curiosity.

"Oh nothing", Sam breathed, giving her a warm smile. _It always seemed weird things happened when churches came into the picture_, he thought to himself.

He sifted onto the road wondering where Dean was as he put the little care through the paces. He didn't like being separated long as of late… not since… He shook his head.

"What's bothering you Sam?" Stormy asked. "You seem so preoccupied."

He squeezed her hand with a smile. "Nothing really Stormy, just been a long night is all." He sidestepped her question carefully, no way was he even going there.

It wasn't long before the road began curving and a large building came into looming clarity.

"Is this it? This where you live?" He asked as he pulled into the deserted church drive. Something was beginning to buzz at the base of his skull and he felt something wasn't quiet right.

"My uncle is the priest", she said then laughed at his stunned face.

They got out of the car and looked up at the church. Sam seemed reluctant to move any closer to it.

"I thought you said you were catholic", he said.

"I am", Stormy said. "Most people around here are. Mansion was founded by Welsh immigrants at the beginning of the 19th century..." Her voice trailed off. They had reached the gates that lead into the graveyard that surrounded the church.

The tingling feeling that things were amiss grew stronger and Sam stopped, forcing Stormy to stop with him.

"What's wrong", she whispered. She could sense it too; a thickness in the air. The mist whirled around them.

"We should get back into the car", Sam started to say but he never got to finish the sentence. In front of his eyes Stormy grew impossibly pale. She turned to him, her eyes large and frightened.

"Help..." she managed. "Can't... breathe..." Her hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the dainty silver cross as if hoping God would save her. But God wasn't there, only Sam Winchester.

"Stormy!" He caught her just as her eyes rolled back in the skull until only a sliver of the iris was seen. Lowering her gently to the ground he looked around wild eyed, but saw nothing.

The thickness in the air increased and took on an oiliness that made him gag.

"Get back!" He managed, showing his hand into his pocket, pulling out the Walter. The gun looked sinister in his hand. It was loaded with silver and salt.

At his feet Stormy's body shook in convulsions.

Not knowing what else to do, Sam once again dug through the pocket of his jacket and retrieved his cell. He automatically clicked the speed dial.

Dean answered at once. "Sam where are you?"

"At the church", Sam said. "Dean, I need-"

"Are you with Stormy?" Dean cut him off before he could finish the sentence.

"Yeah. She-"

"Get away from her right now, Sam! She's the Fideal!"

This made Sam blink, but then he shook his head as if to clear it. "No, Dean, that's not possible. She is wearing a silver cross. She needs help, Dean. Something is attacking her."

"I'm on my way."

Sam clicked him off, not bothering with goodbyes. The girl lay still now... so so very still.

"Stormy?" Sam kneeled by her said, hesitated then pressed his fingers against her throat trying to find a pulse. There was none. "No!" he almost screamed, frantically trying to make sure her airways were cleared.

Suddenly her eyes flew open, and there was nothing of the sweet girl in their tomoultus depths.

"Boy..." She whispered, and her voice was the swell of the sea. The she... _it_ screamed, hands flying up to tear at the cross and the silver chain. Through the screams the thing inside Stormy's body hissed:"Tell my wretched sister that we are tied together with the same bond!"

Then Stormy's body slumped back onto the ground. The thickness in the air disappeared and the mist stopped whirling.

Sam bent over the still body, trying to decide whether she lived or had died when all of a sudden she arched her back, sucking in air in deep gasping mouthfuls.

Sam jerked back, gun aimed at her, but when she tried to speak he lowered it and returned to her side. There was nothing of the Fideal in her voice now, nothing of it in the blue eyes that looked up at him filled with fear and confusion.

"S-sam...?"

"I'm here", he said, cupping her cheeks with his hands. "Just try and breath slowly."

"What... happened?" She managed. "I... it was as if I... died... I could see myself lying on the ground... What happened, Sam?"

"Ah hell, Stormy… I mean I don't know how to say this…" Her wide eyes made him want to lie, but it would be wrong. He stroked her cheek gently trying to calm her.

"Uh, have you ever been able to see ghosts or talk to them… you know any of that stuff?" Sam asked candidly. "Those with a connection are easier fare for the spirit world", he said gently.

He helped her sit up as she stared at him like he was crazy. "What are you getting at Sam?" Her voice going breathless again as she looked at him like she never seen him before, "I mean it was like I left my body… No! No!" She waved her hands for a frantic moment. "_Something_ pushed me out..." Her hand flew to her mouth in utter disbelief.  
"What was it Sam? Why do I believe you know what it was? You even started up before it…" She looked shocked, pulling away from Sam.

"No, Stormy… No it wasn't me", Sam started softly, lamely as she managed to scramble to her feet.

"My God, there is something wrong with you isn't there?" She was getting hysterical as Sam stood slowly, moving towards her like one would a frightened animal.

"Stay away! Just stay away!" She screeched, clutching the tiny cross like it was some kind of a lifeline.

"Stormy,_ please… please…_" Sam held out his hand. "It's not me ..." He trailed as she turned and fled towards the warm lights of a small house behind the church.

Sam ripped angry fingers through his hair, shaking his fists angrily in the air. "God damn it!" He hissed.

Turning he found himself looking at a breathless Dean.

"Don't, Dean." He rasped angrily. "Don't tell me it wouldn't have worked anyway… Don't tell me I'll get over it. Don't…" He turned away from his brother to swipe angry tears form his face. Tears he did not want Dean to see. Did not think he understood.

"Sammy..." Dean said, following a few steps behind as his gangly little brother stalked away. "Talk to me, Sammy."

But Sam only shook his head, refusing to even look at his brother. Dean quickened his steps, reached up and grabbed Sam by the collar of his jacket.

"Dammit, Sam!

Anger welled up inside of the youngest of the Winchester boys. Anger for the unfairness of his legacy, for his mother's death and Jenny's. For his father, who had chosen a life of vengeance. For the sheer panic in Stormy's eyes when she thought he had been the one who attacked her.

He turned around, hands curled into fists and in blind rage he swung at his brother. And hit. The sensation of his fist connecting with flesh gave him an awful feeling of satisfaction.

Then a strong arm wrapped itself around his neck, quick sure feet kicked his legs away from under him and he ended up on the ground, unable to move, held down by Dean.

"That's enough!" There was no mistaking the commanding tone in his brother's voice. "Tell me what happened."

"Oh, so now you want to talk..." Sam managed to drawl. Dean pushed the knee he held pressed down on Sam's back a little harder and was rewarded with a groan of pain.

"Tell me what happened to the girl."

Sam relaxed somewhat. "The Fideal attacked her. It pushed her spirit out of her body and tried to possess it... but it couldn't stay because of the silver."

"So..." Dean thought out loud. "Silver _can_ harm it." He released his grip on his brother and flipped nimbly to his feet. "Get up, Sammy. We have to go back to the motel and check out what dad wrote about this thing."

Sam scrambled to his feet more slowly. "I have to go to her, Dean. I have to try to explain-"

"She wont listen to you." Dean's voice was soft and compassionate. "I'm sorry, Sammy."

~*~

"Uncle!" Stormy screamed, tears streaming down her face as she ran down the hallway to his study.

Father Thomas stepped out, opened his arm to his niece as she flung herself towards him. "Stormy, my dear child! What's happened?"

"Oh, it was awful!" She sobbed, burying her face at the crook of his neck, breathing in the calming and familiar smells of his aftershave, tobacco and coffee. "Someone... some _thing_ attacked me! I couldn't breath!"

"Oh, sweet heart", Thomas said, cupping her face between his hands so that he could look her in the eyes. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Stormy did so, slowly calming down. The tears subsided and she gazed up at her uncle, waiting for him to speak.

Finally he did, "I don't think it was the boy who did this to you. Tell me, Stormy, and tell me the truth. Have you had any more dreams about the man with the yellow eyes?"

Stormy shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Father Thomas prompted.

The girl nodded. "I have had dreams... strange dreams, but not about him."

"Okay, that's good." Thomas pressed a kiss on his niece's forehead. "Wash up and get to straight into bed. I'm sure you will feel much better in the morning."

Stormy nodded again and stepped out of her uncle's embrace. She was halfway up the stairs when he called after her, "Don't forget to say your prayers."

"I won't", Stormy replied then continued up to the second floor.

Father Thomas returned to his study. He locked the door behind him.

Sam got into the tiny cars driver seat silently after Deans last remark. He stared straight ahead as Dean got in. His older brother looking at him grimly.

"Sammy_" Dean started

"Haven't you ever loved anyone and just wanted to be with them without having it become complicated because of this life Dad forced us to live, Dean?" Sam asked the question with a painful longing all too familiar to Dean.

"Yeah sure, Sammy, but unlike you I didn't have any choice… _None._" Dean said quietly now staring out the window too.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sam ground out, turning greying eyes to his brother.

Dean slumped into the seat returning the look with steely green eyes of his own. "It means I got no timeout. It means I spent my growing years watching out for you… it means I didn't have a life, only what Dad had me do every day, Sammy." His words were soft yet hard as steal.

"I didn't ask for our life, Dean."

"Neither did I. But this is what it is and there's no going back now." Dean held his gaze.

Sam's jaw clenched as they looked at each other. "You love this life and don't deny it."

"It's all I know, Sammy ..." he said more softly. "And now that dads gone it's pay back time, so how about losing the tears and lets kick some ass?" His words felt like electric jolts to Sam's senses as something dark and angry shone out of his brother's eyes.

"Sure, Dean." Sam's voice went hoarse as he fired up the tiny motor driving back down the foggy road. They hadn't gone far when a herd of bleating sheep flooded the deserted road.

Sam road the brake stopping before nailing one of the terrified critters. "What's got them..." They exchanged glances killing the motor they pulled guns moving out and around the miniature stampede.

"You do realize these guns wont work on a poltergeist", Sam breathed close to Dean's side.

'I got that covered", Dean mumbled stopping Sam in his tracks as bleating white bodies shuffled past them.

"What are you not telling me, Dean?" Sam demanded already edgy and nerve raw as the sheep grew more anxious, milling across their path.

~*~

Father Thomas smiled as he lit the black candles laid forth over a small table.

He did the incantation bringing a hot fetid wind across the room, the candles flickering, the soft white hair at his brow ruffling.

"It is almost time", he murmured lifting the Athame, calling the Demon that was his familiar.

"The virgin sacrifice is yours when ready, my lord." He smiled as the wind settled and a familiar presence filled the room.

He felt pain, sudden pain as he was struck to the floor.

"_She is a virgin no more, you have failed me in this_", a deep terrible voice filled his head to aching.

"That can't be!" Thomas spat falling to bended knee. "How could she have... who?"

_"Her life is still of value. She is still one of the chosen and one of the others is near, so very near. Things have changed and this is what you will do…"_


	8. Chapter 8

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

The sheep milled around them driven to a state of panic by that unseen force as Sam followed Dean over the fence and out into the field.

"I know you can hear me!" Dean called, turning around in a slow circle.

Suddenly a wind started howling, tugging at their clothes and hair. Tufts of grass was thrown into the air, caught by the wind and whirled around them.

"We've come to set you free!" Dean had to shout to make himself heard over the howls of the wind and the frightened bleat coming from the sheep. "I know you're body was stolen!"

Suddenly the wind stopped. The sheep, no longer herded by the poltergeist fled to settle down elsewhere on the field.

"I know what happened to you." Dean's voice held that tone of softness again, so rarely heard after the death of their dad. "We will fix it. I promise. Just stop trying to make us drive over the sheep, okay?"

There was a calmness in the air now. Suddenly Dean heard a little sigh, and a whisper: _Okay..._

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked. "You know how pissed it will be if you break the promise-"

"I saw Melissa", Dean said, interrupting him.

Sam paused for a moment. "You know she is dead, right?"

Dean shook his head. "That's the problem, Sammy. She is not dead. She and the Fideal are sisters."

"Oh", Sam said. "So that's _what_ it meant..."

"What?" demanded Dean.

"The Fideal, it told me that they are connected by the same bond."

"What does that mean?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe you should go and ask your girlfriend."

They were walking back towards the car.

"She is not my girlfriend", Dean retorted annoyed.

As they took their seats in the little vehicle Sam suddenly laughed.

"What?" Dean asked with a frown.

"I can't believe you actually stuck your tongue into a Fideal!"

Dean closed his eyes in despair. "Just drive."

~*~

Stormy kneeled by the side of the bed, the rosary that had belonged to her mother was wrapped around her clasped hands as she prayed.

Her hair was still wet from the shower and she was dressed in a simple white night-gown. On the nightstand there stood a picture in a golden frame; her parents. They were both so young and smiled beautifully for the camera. The photograph had been taken two weeks before the wedding.

They seemed so happy. Two young people in love, planning to live together for the rest of their lives. And then she had been born, nine months after the weeding, and three months after that they were both dead.

As always she felt a strange pang of guilt as if it were her fault that the fire had started.

Tonight she had a hard time focusing on her prayer. All she could see when she closed her eyes was Sam. The pain in his beautiful eyes when she flinched back from him. Tears suddenly filled her eyes.

She wanted nothing more than to call him, to tell him that she was sorry. And she would have had she had his telephone number. "Tomorrow", she whispered. "I'll go to the motel tomorrow and talk to him."

~*~

"Stop grinning, Sam I swear…" Dean punched his fist on the tiny dash denting the thin veneer.

"Oh now your gonna get it!" Sam mocked as he pulled up outside the motel. "Bobby will have your ass for this! You gotta learn to love her, bro." He ran loving fingers over the rounded hood as he sauntered toward the room.

He fell silent as a sad look passed over Dean's face.

"Hey, Dean", he murmured, touching his muscular shoulder. "We'll get her back together alright"

"God-dam right I will." Dean said in the singular. Sam winced visibly then for his words. Dean caught it and regret bit at him. "I mean sure… you can help, Sam, even if you don't know a wrench from a hammer." He smirked, punching Sam lightly on the arm.

"I do Dean." His young face was serious. "I really want to help fix the impala, OK?"

"You bet, Sam. Now let's get some shut eye." He smiled that rare smile for Sam as he opened the door.

Dean was in bed before Sam as usual, watching him linger over his bag, his toothbrush and stuff like that. "You can't stay awake for ever, Sam", he finally sighed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dean."

"I mean whatever's scaring your ass in those dreams will kill you quicker if you don't sleep. Just tell me what it is, maybe that will help", he prodded matter of facktly.

Sam turned, looking down at the ugly carpet, sitting slowly on the bed in his cotton boxers. "I can't… I can't tell you, Dean."

"Goddamit why not, Sammy?" he demanded.

Sam raised his eyes, filled with fear, and looked at his brother. "You'll think something's wrong with me. You'll ..."

Dean sat up fear razing his heart for whatever this was he seen in his brothers eyes was more frightening than the monsters they fought. "No, Sam you tell me you tell me now!" He leaned forward, laying his hand across Sam's neck squeezing gently. "Tell me."

Sam looked him in the eyes then. "The yellow eyed demon... He comes at me in my dreams, Dean and he's real… so very…real…"

"No!" Dean gasped. "You can't be serious!"

Sam pulled away from him. "I knew you would think that I'm loosing it!"

"No..." Dean said, sitting there with his father's last words running through his mind. "Jesus, Sam..." He ran his fingers through his spiky hair.

"What do you think it means?" Sam asked, his voice small.

Dean quickly looked away, scratched his nose. "I don't know, Sammy. But what ever it means we will face it together, bro. Okay?" He reached out again, pulling Sam into his arms and hugged him fiercely. "Now try and get some sleep", he said releasing his younger brother again and leaning back in his own bed.

Reluctantly Sam did the same.

The long journey and everything that had happened since they rolled into Mansion had taken its toll on him and quickly fell asleep.

Dean sat in his bed and watched his little brother sleep. Then he rose and moved on quiet feet towards the bags filled with the weapons of their trade. He opened one of the side-pockets and retrieved a velvet pouch. As he moved towards Sam's bed a lonely moon beam shone in through a crack between the curtains. It played over muscular arms and shoulders; caressed its way across a well toned chest and abdomen as Dean stood by his little brother's bed.

He opened the pouch and poured a mix of salt, herbs and the holy bread of the Christian sacrament, into his hand. He then moved in a circle, allowing a thin stream of the white dust run through his fingers, creating a circle of protection around Sam.

Hopefully it would at least allow Sam to sleep a little better tonight.

Dean returned to his bed and lay there, watching his brother. Silent tears ran down his cheeks. He looked strangely vulnerable, like the little boy he had once been.

"I can't do it, Dad", he whispered. "How could you even ask that of me?"

Finally sleep came to claim him as well. The tears dried on his cheeks, but his brow was knotted, the sensual curve of his lips turned downward in grief and fear.

The sun stood high above the horizon when the sound of someone knocking woke them both up.

Sam was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as Dean slipped out of his bed, instantly wide awake. He padded over to the window and peered out, then he turned to his brother with a little smile.

"It's for you, Sam."

Sam groaned rising up on his elbows, his hair a tousled brown mess. He raised a hand over his face to block the ever brightening light as he looked at the open door.

His eyes widened and he stumbled out of bed tripping over tangled blankets as he fell to the floor.

Dean smiled at Stormy "Not what you call a morning person "he gave her a grin walking away from the door with a long arm stretch , showing off rippling muscles across his back and shoulders before sauntering off to the bathroom.

Stormy stepped into the doorway peeking in at Sam scrambling off the floor. He stood suddenly, smiling like an idiot. "Hey there… Stormy." He said softly, rubbing his hair down as best he could.

"Hey back", she returned, a lovely blush of colour rising across her cheeks as she caught sight of something bulging in his boxers, dropping her gaze with a giggle.

Sam looked down gasping. "_Awww shit_ ", he mumbled reaching for his pants on the end of the bed to cover himself

"Morning wood, bro", Dean chipped over his toothbrush, winking at Stormy as he pulled a shirt from his bag.

Another giggle as Sam yanked his pants up, giving Dean a scathing glance.

'What?" Dean said with that sardonic lift of an eyebrow, heading back to the sink to spit.

Sam hurried over to Stormy, touching her arm lightly. "Hey I'm so glad you came over. About last n –night…." He stammered.

'Its OK, Sam", she said softly, touching his hand. "I panicked, I'm sorry."

"Yea?" Sam smiled beautifully for her and she returned it the same.

"I need to talk to you if that's alright?" Her eyes darting in Deans direction.

"Yea, how about some coffee and breakfast and we'll talk. All of us, OK Dean?'

"Sounds good, Sammy." Dean flashed them a quick smile as he went for his pants.

Sam took both her hands in his pulling her closer he surprised her with a soft kiss. Her blue eyes going wide. "I could never hurt you Stormy you know that right?" He whispered against her coppery hair.

"I know, Sam. I realized that last night." Her face was drawn her eyes tired reminding him of ...him.

"You look tired", he murmured with concern.

"That's part of the problem, I think", she said carefully.

Sam touched her cheek, "We'll talk about it."

He went back to the bed hefting his bag up to plop on the rickety thing when he seen a bit of the powder, what was left of the protection circle. He looked at Dean fingering a bit of dust.

"You did that for me last night?" He asked, his voice tight.

"Someone's got to watch out for you, little brother." Dean said. "Lets get some breakfast. I'm starving!"

Sam smiled and nodded pulling on a shirt. He turned to see Stormy and Dean waiting for him ...maybe this day would be a little better ...maybe.

Stormy led them to a diner that looked as if it had been plucked right out of the fifties and then preserved. The pink neon sign in the window said: Nancy's.

"They have the best pancakes", Stormy said as she pushed the door open and led them inside. "And the best coffee."

"Sounds great", Dean said.

They found a booth in the far end of the L shaped diner and started eyeing the menu.

A waitress dressed in pink came over to them with a friendly smile. "Hi, Stormy, what can I get you?"

"Hi, Nancy. The usual please, and a double cup of coffee."

"And you boys?" Nancy asked, giving them a look over her glasses.

"I'll have pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon. And a glass of OJ, sweetheart", Dean said with a wink and a smile.

"I'll have the same but change the juice into a coffee", Sam said.

"I'll make yours a double one too, honey", Nancy said. "You two kids been up running around all night?" She asked, her eyes going from Stormy to Sam.

"It's just been a long night, that's all", Sam said managing to smile.

Nancy nodded. "Your breakfast will be done in a couple of minutes." She hurried off to shout at the chef.

Sam stretched across the table, taking the girl's hand in his. "Stormy", he said. "Are your parents dead?"

She nodded, a tear formed in the corner of her eye and slowly rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with her free hand.

"They died in a fire, didn't they?" Dean said quietly.

The girl's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"The same thing happened to us", he said, leaning forward a little, not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation. "I remember the smell of smoke and my dad with his face streaked in sot. He pushed Sammy into my arms and told me to get out of the house. He tried to save mom but the fire was too intense."

"I'm so sorry", Stormy said, instinctively reaching out, taking Dean's hand.

Dean found himself having to swallow hard, as if the girl's light touch awoke something inside of him, some part of himself that he had turned off and ignored long ago.

"How do you sleep at night?" He asked, unaware of the softness that had crept into his voice.

"Not good", Stormy whispered. Her eyes flickered to Sam before returning to Dean. "I have these dreams."

"About a yellow-eyed demon?" Sam asked. "I have them too."

"How?" She started, then: "A demon?"

"Have you told your uncle about the dreams?" Sam wanted to know.

She nodded. "He said I shouldn't worry about them, that they will pass. But..." She shuddered. "They are so scary... the things he says..."

"I know", Sam said, caressing her hand.

"Here we go," a cherry voice interrupted. It was Nancy returning with their breakfast.

Sam gave her hand a comforting squeeze leaning back he caught the serious glint in Deans eyes and nodded.

Nancy piled the plates across the table with expert ease, flashing a slightly yellow smile. "Eat up kids", she said in a motherly tone before sauntering off.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, forks scrapping cups tipping.

Sam sighed after a forkful of pancake, looking at Stormy as she picked more than ate at her food. "What does he say to you, Stormy, in your dream?"

His question was pointed and Dean paused with a forkful of pancake halfway to his mouth.

Stormy set her fork down slowly looking at him with frightened blue eyes. "He says I'm one of the chosen … one that will rise, or fall among others like myself."

Sam swallowed hard as Dean turned his head and looked at him. "And you Sam, what does he say to you ?"

"The same thing. Look, Dean it's obvious I'm not the only one that dreams this, and I'll bet the devil there are more of us!"

Dean winced. "Not a good one to bet with, Sammy."

"You know what I mean", he returned exasperated as Dean plied the last of his pancake into his mouth.

Sam looked back at Stormy and she was shaking like a leaf. He grabbed her hand pulling her close. "Don't be afraid, Stormy, well figure this out, I swear."

She nodded and managed to give him a pale smile.

A thought began bothering Dean, a thought he wasn't going to air in front of her… He took a sip of juice as the Sheriff came into distorted view from the bottom of his glass. "Well howdy, Sheriff Miller" he said with a wry smile as he lowered the glass, noting the unhappy frown he and his plump deputy wore.

"Another girl is dead", Miller said quietly, almost accusingly.

Dean's smile evaporated. "When?"

"Under the twin bridges late last night"

Dean's breath exploded. _He had been there! _

"Little Deanna Field, only 13 years old, running around late with her friends. She had snuck out the window. He mother didn't even know she was gone. Looks like she was heading back home ...when…" The man swallowed hard, his voice nearly breaking.

Dean felt sick, nodding slowly. Sam said nothing as he held Stormy.

"You boys been trying to do something about this at all?" Miller asked half accusingly as his eyes fell on Sam and Stormy.

Dean stood up stiffly, getting in the sheriff's face. "I know more in one night than you have since it started, Sheriff", his voice dead calm his eyes steely.

"Fine ..boy." Miller returned without budging an inch. "Just was hoping it wasn't going to happen any more if you get my drift." He pulled out his bag of beechnut tobacco, stuffing his left cheek full.

"It ends tonight", Dean said with hard core certainty.

"See that it does, Winchester. I'd hate to see you boys go up in flames." The Sheriff made it clear, very clear. Dean gave him a curt nod, jaw set as the Sheriff tipped his hat at Stormy and moved on with Willard in tow.

Dean sat, his brow glistening with sweat.

"Just how the hell you going to make this all happen tonight, Dean?!" Sam hissed.

He started shaking his head when Dean gave Stormy a very pointed look. 'Oh no ..no, Dean you cant be thinking of using her as bait. She already had a run in ,literally with one of those bitches!"

Stormy raised her hand, silencing Sam's protests. "This is my town", she said, her voice calm now, filled with determination. "If there is anything I can do to stop the killings I will do it."

Dean nodded.

"No!" Sam's voice was loud enough to make people turn their heads and glance at them. "No, you can't do this, Stormy! You almost died!"

She turned to him, her eyes tumultuous depths of churning blue. "Yes, Sam. _Almost_. You were there to save me, and you will be there to save me again."

"No..." His voice had sunk to a desperate whisper. "What if I fail. Stormy, I am begging you, don't do this. We'll think of something else."

"This is the only way, Sammy", Dean interrupted. "You know it is."

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam barked. "I won't let you risk her life!"

Dean put a strong hand on his little brother's arm. "But it isn't your choice. It's hers." He turned to Stormy.

"I want to do this", she said. "These are my friends, people I know that is being killed. If I knew I could have done anything to prevent it and didn't, I couldn't go on living with myself."

Sam ran trembling fingers through his hair. "This is crazy..."

Stormy caressed his cheek with soft fingers, making him look at her. "Sam", she said, her voice very soft and sweet. She took his hand and pressed his fingers to her collarbone, where the cross sparkled in the sunlight. "Have faith."


	9. Chapter 9

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

They spent the rest of the day planning and preparing. Stormy called from Sam's cell to tell her uncle that she wasn't coming home until well past midnight. That she was going to the cinema with Sam.

"The Father didn't object?" Dean asked after she had given the cell back to Sam. "Or perhaps taking a girl to the movies doesn't mean making out with her in the back row anymore?"

Stormy giggled. "The only movie showing tonight is a sing along version of Sound of Music."

Dean chuckled. "I get the point."

When they pulled out their bag of goodies Stormy's eyes grew wide. "Who are you guys really?" She asked as Sam and Dean checked over the guns, making sure they were in perfect condition.

"Here", Sam said, handing her a silver dagger. "If things go wrong... if the Fideal gets past us, use this on it. You probably won't kill it but you'll be able to wound it enough so that you can escape."

She nodded, a little pale now as the sun was setting and the shadows grew deeper, darker. Outside the window a fog were slowly creeping through the streets of Mansion.

The boys grabbed their jackets and picked up their bags. Stormy followed more slowly. "I'm glad I put on a pare of jeans and sneakers this morning", she commented as they walked out of the motel room. "I would hate to have to do this in a flimsy dress and high-heels. That would just be too cliché."

Dean chuckled at this and even Sammy managed a smile.

"Were are we going to do this?" He asked as they walked down the street, the Winchester boys flanking Stormy.

"The park by the canal", Dean said after a moments thought. "We'll be able to hide in the bushes and the street lights will make sure the Fideal wont be able to get close without us seeing it.

"We couldn't see it last night", Sam said.

"But we did sense it", Stormy said. "And if it wants to kill, to..." she hesitated a little"... eat. It has to have a physical form, right?"

"I'm impressed", Dean said. "You learn quickly."

As they came closer to the canal the fog grew thicker. Dean and Sam scanned the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. But everything was quiet, nothing moved. It was as if they were the last three people left in Mansion.

The canal came into view, and there on the other side of it the park waited. They crossed the bridge in silence. All three thinking of poor little Deanna.

Dean felt a stab of guilt through his chest. He had walked right over the place where she had died. He should have sensed it, sensed something... He should have been able to stop it.

They reached the park.

Sam helped Stormy with the throat-mic and the earpiece. "I feel like I'm in the Secret Service", she said, but her smile was pale and there was a hunted look in her eyes. She was frightened.

He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to go through with it, but he realised that Dean was right, this was the only way they would be able to stop the Fideal.

"Are you ready?" Dean asked, putting a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder.

Stormy nodded.

"You have to take of the cross", Dean said, his voice calm and soft, not wanting to make the girl even more frightened than she already was.

"O-okay..." Her fingers shook so badly that she couldn't get the little claps up. Then Sam was there with his sure, strong hands.

"I'll keep it safe", he promised.

"Now what?" Stormy asked.

Suddenly a woman spoke behind them: "Well, well, well... what have we here?"

They all spun around to see Marissa standing under a street lamp.

She came sauntering towards them, hips swaying in erotic figure eights.

"Hello boys", she said, her voice honeyed, but it was on Stormy her eyes was riveted. "Such power..." She breathed when she came close. "I can feel it... waiting to be awoken..." She leaned in, almost close enough to kiss the girl's parted lips.

"Who are you?" Stormy asked, then realisation dawned on her. "_What_ are you?"

Suddenly Sam was there, the Walter in his hand. "Back off."

"Silly boy", Marissa tisked. "It is not me you should fear but the pretty girl you so valiantly is protecting... No wonder my sister wants her... And she has tried to take you, hasn't she?" She asked Stormy, ignoring Sam and the gun.

The girl nodded.

"Marissa."

The woman turned towards Dean. "Yes?" She asked.

"When your sister attacked Stormy she said that you and her were tied together by the same bond. Do you have any idea of what she was talking about?"

"I do", she said. "And that is why I have come. Once my sister is dead you will have to kill me as well, otherwise I cannot leave this body and release the spirit whom should inhabit it."

"Kill you?" Only Sam was able to hear the hesitation in his brother's voice. But perhaps something of it was visible in his eyes too for Marissa tilted her head.

"Will that be a problem for you?"

"No." Dean said, struggling not to convey his emotions. "I don't have a problem with it if you don't."

Marissa smiled.

As they retreated into the deep shadows and the bushes, leaving Stormy sitting on a bench that stood under a street lamp, Dean felt a hand on his thigh. He pushed it away.

"Aw, come on..." Marissa whispered in his ear. "We would be so good together. I know you desire me still."

"Drop it", Dean said, his eyes cold as he turned his head to meet her mirthful ones. "I don't fuck monsters."

She pouted.

Stormy sat on the bench feeling very naked without her cross. The smell coming from the canal was strong, nauseating. She jumped a little when Sam's voice suddenly was heard.

"Can you see or sense anything?"

"Nothing", she whispered. "Just the stench of canal-water."

"That is not the canal", Dean whispered into the throat-mic. "That's her, she is close."

Stormy looked around nervously. "I don't see anything."

Behind her a pale hand, every finger ending in a long curved talon became visible as it grabbed hold of the wall. Carefully keeping to the shadows so not to be seen the Fideal crept closer and closer to the girl. In her twisted mind the child shone with a bright light.

If she were to possess that body she would be restored to her former glory and power! No longer would she have to hide in the shadows, sustaining herself with dead flesh.

She could sense others nearby... but the girl... Oh the girl was irresistible...

Shifting from physical form to ethereal the Fideal slowly moved in on its victim.

Stormy had only a second's warning. "Sam!" She said, her voice shaking. "I can feel it-"

Then the fog whirled up to envelope her.

"No!" Sam shouted, running towards the bench were Stormy's body shook in convulsions.

This time there were no silver around her neck to protect her.

"Stormy!"

"Stay back, Sam!" Dean called but Sam where already kneeling beside the girl's body. "Dammit!"

She was still twisting and shaking as if a struggle took place within her.

"Stormy", Sam said, holding her.

"Sam..." The girl managed, her voice strangled. "Sam, I can feel her inside of me. Please you have to..." She screamed, her back arching. Then her eyes flew open. "Kill me, Sam, do it now when she is trapped inside of me. She will die too. I know it..."

Sam shook his head, unaware of the tears that ran down his face. "I can't..."

"Please", Stormy gasped. "If you don't she'll push me out of my body and I will be trapped here forever. I'll change, I'll turn into an evil spirit... I will become one of the things you hunt... Sam please..."

"No", Sam sobbed.

Suddenly the girl was ripped out of his arms by an unseen force. She was lifted into the air and hung there, arms stretched out, face contorted by pain.

Dean had reached them, his gun lifted and ready to fire.

"No!" Shouted Sam, grabbing his arm as he aimed straight at the girl. "What are you doing, Dean?!"

"This is the only way, Sam." Dean's voice was steady, his eyes filled with something dark. But before he could fire Stormy was thrown to the ground.

She screamed again, face contorting as the two spirits struggled for control. Suddenly the silver dagger was in her hand. She looked up, and it was Stormy. Her sweet eyes filled with tears.

"I have to do this, Sam."

It was as if time slowed down and sped up at the same time. Sam saw her raise the dagger, saw it gleam. It seemed to take forever for it to ascend but still he wasn't able to move fast enough. Stormy plunged the dagger into her abdomen.

The Fideal screeched. Fog whirled around them and then the spectre appeared; a horrible visage of evil and hunger. It hissed as both Sam and Dean aimed at it, pulling their triggers simultaneously. The silver bullets smacked into the creature and forced it back.

It hissed again, showing off a frightening amount of sharp teeth. Dean pulled out the little knife Marissa had given him. He held it by the blade between the thumb and the index-finger, raised the hand in a smooth motion and released the knife, sending it twirling through the air. It hit the Fideal in the throat. The creature screamed, an all too human sound, then it exploded.

Sam immediately dropped the gun and closed the distance between himself and Stormy in a few strides. He pulled the girl's body into his arms. Her hand was till wrapped around the hilt of the dagger, her white t-shirt slowly changing colour to red.

Dean stood here frozen for a second, but Marissa stepped in front of him.

"Quickly now", she said. "You have to do it now before she awakes again."

Dean took a shaky breath but when he raised the gun his hand was steady. He pressed it against Marissa's forehead.

"Thank you", she said and closed her eyes. He pulled the trigger, blinking when her blood splattered across his face. The woman's body fell to the grown by his feet, a small trickle of blood coming from the hole in her forehead. She had died instantly. Then the body started to dissolve and finally it disappeared.

Dean swallowed again as bile rose in his throat. He hurried over to where Sam where sitting with Stormy. "Is she..." He trailed off unable to finish the sentence.

"No", Sam said, looking up at him. "She is a live but she needs a doctor fast."

"That little doctor ,that was checking the death scene "Dean said yanking the cell phone out of his pocket .Sam looked at his pale features the blood spattered across his face.

"Jesus Dean…" He started to say when a pained moan escaped Stormy's lips.

"Dean…Dean!" Sam's voice growing panicky as blood oozed persistently from Stormy's wound . "Dean!" He yelled turning his head as he held Stormy's head across his lap, his jacket pressed to her wound becoming warm and sticky.

Dean was froze in place, phone in hand, eyeing the Priest walking calmly up the park path.

'What's going on, Dean?" Sam asked in a small panicky voice.

"How did he find us?" Dean asked more of himself than Sam.

"We can't just sit here!" Sam's voice rose on renewed panic as Stormy moaned again, her eyes fluttering in pain.

Father Thomas stepped with careful precision towards them, stopping a few feet from Deans raised gun. The very air sinister around his black cloaked form.

"Son, that is my niece dying on the ground. Come, let me help get her to a doctor." He said in a soothing voice.

Sam let go a hard breath then. "This her uncle… Dean? Are you listening to me? She told me about him at the church!"

"No Sammy, something's not right with this. How did you know we were here?" Dean emphasized the question with a wag of his gun.

"The shots could be heard for some distance," Father Thomas said as smoothly. "We must hurry or she dies here and now."

"Dean!" Sam yelled as Stormy's face tinged in blue line.

"Alright! Alright!" He yelled back lowering the gun. "Help us then… Father." he hissed pulling his cell phone out to call the Sheriff for help.

Father Thomas knelt next to Sam looking oddly at him and not the girl first. "Your the one that wrecked havoc with my plans, I could smell you on her body last night..." His eyes started changing. "I would kill you now but he has other plans ..for both of you"

Sam swung out at the Demon trying to strike him off balance, his fist catching the possessed mans jaw.

The return blow set Sam on his back with a gasp of pain and red stars flashing through his skull. Yet he reached out to grab The Demons arm as he wrenched Stormy from his grasp. Sam screamed as fingers grabbed his wrist in an iron band and twisted until soft bone could be heard cracking .Laying Sam writing on his back.

Father Thomas already had the girl in his arms standing to face Dean.

He stood in a stance gun raised. "Put her down you piece of shit. Do it now."

The possessed man leered at him with black embolic eyes. His voice changing in to a strange grinding drawl. "Her destiny, like your brothers is not for you to decide, hunter."

"Try me", Dean said, jaw clenched. "Last warning demon", his tone flat. Yet he couldn't shoot and take out the girl in the process.

The demon laughed a low droning sound. "Your father knows what his fate is. And so do you, hunter." He smiled evilly as Dean's eyes grew wide. "Yes you do know what I mean don't you boy..."

"Like my dad always said, never believe a lying demon", Dean stated. He began chanting the Latin words of exorcism but only two escaped his lips as the demon raised one hand.

Dean found himself smashed to the ground, breathless and gasping for air.

"His fate like the girls is out of your hands, Dean…" The voice hedged as the demon possessed Priest walked away with the girl in his arms.

Dean kept struggling to breath, but every breath became harder and harder as broken ribs pierced a lung deflating it with every attempt to draw air.

"Dean!" Oh God no Dean!" Sam screamed crawling to his side, touching his face with one good hand as pain ripped across the other. "Dean don't die on me, don't you die!" He found the cell phone, forcing the shaking fingers of his one good hand to press the Sheriff's number.

"Hurry, hurry!" Were the last words Dean heard from his frantic brother as blackness welled over his conscious self.


	10. Chapter 10

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

It was a beautiful dream. The family together… All of them. Dean's mother and father and little brother Sam. They were sitting at the dinner table enjoying a feast. They talked of normal things, jobs, girlfriends…

Dean took a deep satisfied breath and it hurt… really hurt as he woke with a start.

He was in a bed, not the typical hospital fare, yet there was A IV in one arm. He felt tight bandaging around his sore ribs and it just plain hurt to breathe.

He moved his head a little catching sight of Sam asleep in a big green chair, overstuffed and ancient it was splitting at a seam, yellowed stuffing threatening to spill out.

Sam was asleep, his head angled as if he fell asleep reluctantly. The right side of his face one big purple bruise, his arm in a cast...

What the hell had happened!? Dean remembered it all suddenly… The girl. The demon. What it had said to him.

"Oh God, dad I wish you were here", he whispered painfully. Footsteps brought a grim Sheriff into the doorway.

"Dam good to see you awake son." He smiled tightly.

"Where am I?" Dean asked slowly his throat sore, voice strained.

"The Doc's house, figured it would be safer here than the hospital, seeing as how you boys are wanted."

Dean looked back at Sam.

"He's going to be fine too", the big man added as if reading Dean's thoughts ."I'll be damned if he was leaving you either, he's been at your side the last two days, never budging."

"Two days?" Dean's brow went up with mild shock. "What happened to the dem- uh girl… Stormy." He managed fighting down the trepidation of previous events.

"You tell me son", the Sheriff said stiffly.

"Have you talked to her uncle?" Dean asked, studying the Sheriff's haggard face.

"Father Thomas told me he sent her to some friends of the family that lives in New England. Because of the killings. Lots of parents have done that the last couple of weeks. But..." He trailed off.

"You didn't believe him", Dean filled in.

Miller rubbed his hand across the eyes. "He's the priest for Christ's sake! I don't have any reason not to believe him!"

In his chair Sam stirred.

"Keep quiet, Sheriff", Dean hissed. "I don't want you to wake up my little brother."

"Alright. I'm sorry", Miller said in a much quieter tone. He was about to leave but then changed his mind and just stood there, looking strangely embarrassed all of a sudden.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Ah", Miller started, turning his hat between his hands by the rim. "I just wanted to say thank you, to the both of you. And ask you, if you could, to forget what I said at Nancy's. I didn't mean to threaten you, but these killings... "He shook his head sadly. "This is a small town, Winchester. Everybody knows everybody, if you know what I mean. And the girls... I knew them all."

"I understand, Sheriff", Dean said softly.

"What I want to say is that you and your brother will always be welcome here in Mansion." He put the hat on. "Christ, if you weren't wanted by the FBI I'd have the town through you a parade!"

Dean chuckled at this, then winced as sharp stabs of pain reminded him of his broken ribs.

"What are you going to do about Stormy?" He then asked, carefully pressing a hand against his chest as if hoping to subside the pain a little.

"I have no reason to suspect that Father Thomas isn't telling the truth", Miller said slowly.

"She was wounded when he came and picked her up", Dean said. "He said he had heard the shots."

"I'm sorry, son", Miller sighed. "But the Father is her legal guardian, and no one has officially seen her wounded. Perhaps he really did send her out of town."

"To a hospital?"

"Yeah", the Sheriff nodded. "That is what I believe. Not even in my darkest moments can I believe that Father Thomas would do anything to hurt Stormy. He loves that child. Christ, we all do. She is a very special girl."

"Yeah", Dean mumbled. "I know."

"I have to go", the Sheriff said. "Before Doc gets up here and drag me out. You have a good rest now you hear, Winchester. And I hope you and your brother both will feel better soon."

After the Sheriff had closed the door behind him, Dean leaned back against the pillows.

"Dean?" The sound of Sam's voice made him turn to his brother.

"Hey, bro." He smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"How are _you_ feeling?" Sam asked, ignoring his question. He reached out and grabbed Dean's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Dammit, Dean..."

"I know." Dean's eyes seemed suddenly a little too bright as if the grey-green irises had been bejewelled.

And then came the question Dean dreaded.

"How do we get Stormy away from the demon?"

Dean closed his eyes. "Sammy..." He started. "The Sheriff came while you were taking your little nap and told me that her uncle has sent her to a hospital out of town." He held his breath, praying for Sam to believe the lie.

"No!" Sam shook his head. "It can't be! Why would it do that?"

"It wants her alive", Dean said sternly. Then he changed the subject. "What about the poltergeist?"

"It's been taken care of", Sam answered numbly.

"Good. And where's our kit?"

"Under your bed. I thought it best if the Doc saw as little as possible. Dean-"

"Go", Dean said softly. "Call all major hospitals in Maine and New England. You might be able to track her down."

"And what are you going to do?" Sam asked, unfolding his long legs and standing up, still holding his brother's hand in his healthy one.

Dean gave him a pale smile. "I'm going to rest. The ribs hurt like a bitch, and it's not as if I can go anywhere hooked to this thing." He lifted his arm, showing the IRV needle.

"Good", Sam said. He leaned down and brushed a kiss on his older brother's pale forehead. "I wouldn't know what I would do without you, bro."

"Dude!" Dean pretended to protest. "I know I'm irresistible but we are brother's for Christ's sake!" He was rewarded with a smile.

"Try and get some rest now", Sam said and headed for the door.

Once he was alone, Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position, eyebrow knotted as pain shot up through his chest. The doctor had done a good job on his ribs and as long as he didn't have to jump any fences he would be alright.

Dean pulled the needle out of his arm, found bandages on the nightstand and wrapped some of it around the wound left by the needle in order to stop the bleeding. Carefully he rolled out of bed, moaning as the pain increased. He found his jeans and t-shirt and managed to pull them on. The shoes provided a whole other problem but he managed to put them on as well. This was not the first time he had had to dress himself with broken ribs.

Reaching in under the bed with his leg he hooked his foot under the handle of the carry all and pulled it out. He had to bend down a little to pick it up and bit his lip not to cry out. Then he looked through Sam's jacket that hung across the chair where he had watched over Dean. He fished out the car-keys. Moved across the room on quiet feet and pressed an ear to the door. He heard nothing. He opened the door just a crack and peered out. The hallway outside was empty and quiet.

Dean moved like a shadow, making no sound as he made his way to the stairs. He kept close to the wall to avoid any creaking steps as he descended to the first floor. From an adjacent room Sam's voice came:

"Red hair", he said. "Blue eyes. Her name is Stormy. No mam, it's not a joke...."

Dean got to the front door, opened it as quietly as he had opened the bedroom door and slipped out.

~*~

Stormy had awoken to darkness. To a dry smell that was strangely familiar. And to pain. Her stomach felt as if it was on fire. She had skimmed her fingers across it, felt the bandages and remembered what had happened.

She had gasped, her hand automatically reaching for the silver cross only to find it gone.

But even without its protection she had managed to fight the Fideal trying to possess her body. She had cast it out and then she couldn't remember anything until she woke up here in the pitch black.

She crawled across a stone floor until she came to a wall that felt as if it had been cut out from rock. It was as if she were in a cave. But that smell... it was so familiar...

Stormy leaned against the wall and managed to climb to her feet. The pain in her stomach increased until she thought she would either scream, throw up, faint or perhaps all three. But she managed to stay on her feet.

Reaching out with one hand in front of her she started to explore her prison. And that smell… that dry smell of stone and old dust and something else… something familiar…

It wasn't until she found the alcove that had been cut out in the wall that she understood where she was, and when she did she couldn't hold back a scream.

She was in the old crypt below the church.

What was she doing there? Why? And what had happened to Sam and Dean. The questions tumbled through her mind. With on hand on the wall she made her way to the narrow steps that led up from this place. But she reached them only to find that the door was locked. Panic rose up within her and she started to hammering the door, screaming until she thought her lounges would explode.

Finally she heard the tell tale sound of the stone slab that hid the door to the crypt being removed.

She sobbed with relief as the old key turned in the lock. She was going to be saved.

The door opened and she was immediately blinded by the bright light that suddenly filled the crypt.

"Ah, you're awake", a familiar voice said.

"Uncle?" Stormy whispered hoarsely, trying to shield her eyes from the bright light.

"It won't be long now, my child", Uncle Thomas said. "Soon very soon it will be over. But you have to be patient for just a little while longer."

"No…" Stormy shook her head, refusing to believe that this was real. "Why?"

But the door fell close and she could hear the key turning in the lock again.

And somehow she knew why. In her dreams the yellow-eyed man, the demon, had always had her uncle's face.

She curled up on the floor, wrapped her arms around herself and cried.

~*~

Dean hit the breaks, forcing the Beatle to stop, tires screeching against the asphalt. The church seemed sinister under the bright white sky, a looming structure with deep-set windows and a large double door that looked as if it had been taken from a medieval castle.

Dean climbed out of the little car, pulling the bag with him, forcing every thought of pain out of his head. He had to do this, for Sam, for Stormy and for himself. He would only get one chance.

He hurried towards the church, taking the sawn off shotgun out of the bag. He followed the straight path that led up to the large double gates. Cut out of the wood of one of the doors there was a normal sized door. Dean tried the handle and found that it was unlocked. He opened it slowly and peered inside.

The church was empty. He slipped inside. He suspected that Stormy would be held somewhere inside its structure, but where? Then he noticed the black square in the floor beside the altar. Old, worn steps lead down into the darkness. Dean took the steps in a couple of quick strides and found the wooden door. It was bolted and locked

"Stormy?" He whispered.

At first there was nothing but then he could hear someone moving on the other side of the door.

"Dean?" The girl's voice was hoarse as if she had been screaming or crying. "Is Sam there too?"

"No, just me. I'm going to get you out. Stand back from the door. Hide behind something."

"Behind what?" Came the muffled reply. "This is a crypt!"

Even in the dangerous situation Dean managed a smile at the tone in Stormy's voice. "There should be some sarcophagus or alcoves or something."

There came no reply.

"Stormy?" Dean whispered, knowing that time was running out on them. "Talk to me."

Finally she did, her voice suddenly very small and trembling. "There's skeletons there…"

"So?" Dean's voice was stern now. "They wont hurt you. I have to shoot the door open, Stormy and I would hate to hit you so get out of the way."

A couple of seconds ticked by. Dean wiped the sweat of his brow. Finally he heard Stormy again.

"Do it."

He lifted the shotgun to his shoulder and clenched his teeth. This was going to hurt like hell. Then he pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the church in waves. The old lock exploded and the door flew open.

Even in the darkness he could see Stormy's pale face peeking out from an alcove in the wall. She nearly fell out of the hole in her frantic wish to escape the skeleton and the crypt.

Dean winced when he saw how pale she was. She was still dressed in the same blood-drenched clothes she had been during their fight with the Fideal. He reached out, grabbing her by the arm steadying her. Together they started to climb the steps up towards the light.

~*~

Sam put the phone down with a sigh. There wasn't any girl with red hair and blue eyes admitted for a knife-wound in the entire states of New England and Maine. He rubbed his tired eyes. His broken arm ached. He rose slowly with a heavy heart.

He slowly climbed the stairs, wanting to check in on his brother. He didn't knock on the door so not to disturb him if he slept, instead he opened it quietly and stepped inside the room.

It was empty. The covers had been pushed to the foot of the bed and the IRV needle lay discarded on the nightstand. Knowing the bag would be gone Sam still knelt by the bed, looking under it.

"Damn him!" He shouted, anger and fear panging his heart.

With no plan of action other than getting to the church and find Dean before he got himself killed, Sam went to the little guest room where he slept. From under the bed he pulled out a smaller bag than the one he had stored under Dean's bed. He unzipped it, grabbed only one of the weapons and where off.

He took the stairs in a couple of strides and were out the door.

"Where are you going?" Doctor Hansen shouted after him. "And where is your brother?"

"The church!" Sam called back and continued down the street, running as fast as he could.

The church lay only a couple of blocks away, even now he could see the bell tower stretch up towards the cloudy sky.


	11. Chapter 11

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

Dean and Stormy had made their way up from the crypt and were headed for the door. They had to set a slow pace, much slower than Dean liked, but Stormy was weak from having lost so much blood, and she had probably gotten an infection as well. Her skin felt hot enough to fry an egg on. She was unable to keep herself on feet without help and so the two hobbled along, clinging to each other like drunk, or lovers.

The door was so close, so very close when suddenly someone stepped out from behind one of the pillars and blocked their exit.

It was Father Thomas.

Dean raised the shotgun. "Move!" He ordered.

The priest smiled. "I was hoping it would be Sam who came. But with you here he can't be far behind. Put down the rifle, Dean."

"You're kidding, right?" Dean snickered. "Now step aside or I'll shoot."

"Uncle, please..." Stormy said, tears running down her cheek. "Why are you doing this?"

"It is for your own good, my child", Father Thomas said. "The great war is coming and you have your part to play."

"What part?" Dean asked.

The priest's eyes were filled with madness as he proudly announced. "My Lord and Master will take you as his bride. I know you are not a virgin anymore, but in away that is even more fitting. You are the gate through which the One will come. You will be his or hers blood-mother, life giver. Through your blood will the One be given eternal life!"

"You're insane", Dean hissed.

Father Thomas smiled. "Perhaps it is who you are insane, hunter. Now let go of the shotgun."

Dean smirked, always willing to push his luck. "Now I would be insane to just hand over my gun." He slid the sawed off stock lower in his hand ready to pull the trigger.

Father Thomas merely smiled his eyes going embolic. "You cannot stop us Dean ...you ...or your father. Thinking you can defend her from her fate..." The possessed priest murmured, then took a step towards them"... Just as he couldn't save Sam, just as you will fail"

"Think again asshole", Dean sneered pulling the trigger, the guns kick smacking him square in the ribs. He doubled in pain as he attempted to recock the repeating rifle.

The priest's body was flung backward with enough force to throw him against a cracked buttress.

Sam heard the shot from down the road, putting his feet to work running even faster he pulled the colt on the go knowing they had but one bullet. But if Dean was still alive and he could stop the demon..And what of Stormy? Would she be there, alive too?

He hit the Church doors hard, flinging them wid. The resounding echo of them thudding the walls was heard by Dean.

"Dean! Stormy!" Sam screamed as he ran through the church.

Dean could hear him but couldn't answer, the wind jarred from his chest, ribs staving again threatening to puncture more tender vitals.

Stormy called out her shrill voice shaky with pain and fear as she struggled to slip by her uncle...or the meat-sack he now was for the demon.

'Oh no my dear" He hissed cutting her off grabbing her wrists tightly jerking her away from the door she would escape through.

She tried to scream, but like Dean her injury laid a sharp line of pain across her stomach, making it near impossible to call out to Sam.

She could only whimper as her eyes too in the open wound made by the shot gun. The priest's chest a gaping hole in the middle. Dean forced himself onto loose working feet aiming the gun again, but like before the Demon pulled the girl in front.

"You already ruined a perfectly good body boy, don't add another with our girl here!"

Dean caught sight of Sam moving in behind. The demon froze; turning slowly it stared at Sam. "There you are", it said as if long waiting for him. Tightening its arm a cross Stormy she cried out weakly, her injury seeping once more from the pressure.

"Let her go and take me", Sam said calmly, the colt behind his back held by his one good hand.

"No Sam!" Dean ordered, anger giving him new strength as he straitened taking a step of his own.

"Well, well, well..." The demon leered. "If it had been anybody but this girl I would take you up on your offer, Sammy."

"It's Sam", Sam said, his voice holding a tone of steel. He moved in a half circle, putting himself between the demon and his brother.

"Aw..." The yellow eyes blinked, batting eyelashes at them. "How sweet. But if you should sacrifice yourself for someone it should be someone more important than your brother. He has no part to play in this. He is merely a nuisance." The priest waved his hand.

A wind suddenly gushed, ruffling Sam's hair. It hit Dean full force, sweeping him of his feet. A strangled cry passed over his lips as he hit the stone floor hard and lost his grip on the shotgun. The weapon slid out of reach.

"Dean!" Sam nearly turned away from the demon to make sure that his brother was okay, the training their father had put them through was the only thing that made him stand his ground. "Talk to me, Dean!"

He heard Dean struggle to breath and then his voice, hoarse and strangled. "Still alive, bro..."

"Do you want me to do it again?" The demon asked with a sickening smile. "I could kill him right here in front of you. Or are you going to give yourself to me?"

Stormy had slumped in the demon's arms. She seemed to be barely aware of what was going on and then she suddenly started to talk. Her voice made a chill run down Sam's spine because it seemed to come from somewhere far away.

"You forget, demon", she said, her voice strangely multifaceted. "There are more than one side in this. The hunter has his part to play, just as we all do... every soul that roams this world. It is not your wickedness that will be your downfall but your arrogance..."

The demon growled, contorting Father Thomas' face in an impossible way. "We have wasted enough time", he hissed. "Step back. Our Lord and Master wants the girl delivered today."

"No!" Sam pulled the colt, aiming it at the demon. "Let go of her or I will kill you."

The demon just smiled again. "You only have one bullet, Sam Winchester, and I don't think you will waste it on me."

"Try me." Sam's eyes were dark, dark like a churning sea, like storm clouds, like iron.

"I am not the one that killed your mother." The demon tilted his head in a masquerade of compassion. "Yes, poor, poor motherless boy..." it whispered. "What if I said I could give her back to you? All you have to do is put down the gun and come with me..."

Sam's mouth slowly fell open his hand lowering with the colt hanging loosely.

"Sammy… Sammy no!" Dean called out, moving in slow pain… so slow, to intercept his brother. "He's lying, Sam you know he is!"

"Your mother… What about your father, Sam?" The Demon cooed shifting the panic stricken girl from arm to the other as Sam took another tentative step closer. "I can bring him back too."

Sam was almost smiling as he moved closer yet almost within touching distance.

"No! Sam, he lies and you know it!" Dean's voice sounded smothered in pain and agony as Sam reached the fingers of his broken hand out, the gun lax at his side.

"Sam look at me", Stormy whispered past the terror. "No one can bring them back no more than they could for me..." Her voice lined out into rasping silence as the Demon squeezed her a little harder. Its black eyes shining as Sam's fingers reached for its.

"Sam!" Dean exploded. "Listen to me! Don't touch that thing, don't!" He was on his feet moving in a staggering line for the Demon.

"You will be the chosen one, Sam Winchester and she will be the bearer…" The Demon's voice was rich and melodic as Sam's fingers hovered over its.

Sam looked it in the eyes and smiled. The Demon smiled back as the dead priest's fingers gripped onto his in cold clammy strength, pulling him in.

"Sam!" Dean screamed, his voice strangled.

Sam raised the gun and fired into the side of the demons head.

The surprised look he was given held morbid satisfaction as light flashed across the priests face , sagging lines of it shooting across the body as it let go his hand , let Stormy dropped to her knees as it feel slowly backwards.

Sam fell to his knees catching Stormy as Dean dropped right into the pair staring with disbelief at Sam's face."You really had me going there for a second." He grinned sardonicaly. "You used our last bullet too dumass."

Sam grinned back. "Well find another way then." He fought tears as he gripped both of them pulling the wounded trio together.

"Come on, let's go", Sam managed, putting an arm around each of the other two, giving them the support they needed to walk.

They were only a few steps away from the door when a hot wind, filled with the smell of brimstone slammed it shut in front of them.

"Now what?" Dean groaned, blood trickling from his mouth as they turned around to face this... what ever it was.

The church suddenly went dark. Strange shadows crawled over the walls, the arched windows. The domed ceiling disappeared in to darkness. As they watched the altar changed, it turned into a gateway. Beyond it there was only churning fire. A symphony of screams, of insane laughter was heart coming from the horrible gate.

Through the flames a tall, black shadow moved closer and closer.

"Time's up, Sam", a voice said.

"Who are you?" Sam demanded, lifting the colt again despite that it was now unloaded.

"Come with me and you will find out."

It was impossible not to obey that voice. It was as if it cut right through his defences and was heard in the core of his very soul. He took a step towards the man... _demon..._

"Sammy, no!"

He felt Dean tug at his arm but it was easy to shake himself free so that he could step a little closer. Then an icy pain hit him through the thigh, like someone had taken a frozen knife and stabbed him. His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, frantically grabbing for whatever it was that caused the pain. His fingers found a silver chain in the pockets of his jeans and pulled it out. It was Stormy's cross. It burned with a fierce blue light that seemed to dispel some of the shadows.

"Throw it away, Sam and come to me", the voice ordered.

Sam was about to obey, unable to stop himself when someone stepped between him and the fiery portal.

"This isn't right", Stormy's voice rang out clear as a bell.

"Ah, my bride..." Even without seeing the demon's face Sam knew it was smiling.

"There is something called freedom of choice, you know!" She continued. "It is all part of the deal!"

"Indeed", the demon smirked. "You actually believe in that?"

"I do", she said, her coppery hair whipped around her face by the hot gushes of wind. "God gave us our own will so that we could chose freely-"

"And Sam chooses me!" The demon cut her off.

Behind him Sam could her Dean moan in protest and agony. "Don't listen to it, Sammy..."

Stormy glanced over her shoulder, meeting Sam's eyes. She smiled. "He hasn't made his choice yet, and you know it."

"Alright", the demon said. "I will give him a choice. Sam, come with me or your brother will die."

"No! You can't kill him!" Sam managed to climb to his feet and took a step towards the demon.

"Please, Sam..." Dean whispered. "No..."

Stormy stood her ground. "That is not a fair choice and you know it."

"And how would you know a thing like that, little girl?" The demon smirked.

Stormy just smiled.

"Fine", the demon snapped. "What do you purpose?"

"I will give myself to you if you let Sam and Dean go", Stormy said, her back straight, her head held high, the wound forgotten for the moment as something... bright filled her, giving her the strength to do what she knew she must.

"It is what I have sought first and foremost", the Demon replied.

"No Stormy!" Sam reached for her. "It wont stop at that, they never do, its lying, they always lie!"

She turned her head her pale delicate face filled with sadness… and resolve. "You promise to leave Sam and Dean Winchester alone?" She murmured her eyes filled with love for the gangly Winchester boy and his devoted brother.

"In this time I promise", it said lovingly the power of darkness increasing until it edged the pair in black violet light.

"You stay with me, Stormy! Stay with me!" Sam reached for her hand and as she held hers out she spoke.

"I love you, Sammy." Then she turned towards the Demon and used the last of her strength to bolt forward into its waiting shadow that engulfed her.


	12. Chapter 12

_This story is written by Alterra and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural._

_A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews. We hope you will enjoy this last chapter of Stormy._

"NO! NO! NO!" Sam screamed running after her only to find himself caught in Dean's arms. He simply dropped, dragging Sam with him to the stone floor as the wind whipped out slapping at them as it dissipated just as quickly, leaving a swirl of dust to rise in the musty morning air.

Dean was gasping in pain as he held Sam, dragging him against his chest he felt the silent sobs racking his slender form. He stroked Sam's dust hewn hair, let him cry without saying a word. His eyes glancing in the direction of the dead priest. there was nothing left of him. Only dust skittering across the area he had died ...

"One less body to explain..." he mumbled to himself.

~*~

It was sunset as they drove the shiny pumpkin coloured Beetle back towards Bobby's place. Dean was ancy to get back to work on his car. The cramped space of the bug reminding him just how bad he wanted her fixed.

He glanced over at Sam, worried. He hadn't said hardly anything in the last two days after Stormy's decision of fate. His face drawn, the bruise across the side of his cheek making him look so much older. His casted arm leaning on the Bug's wheel, the fingers playing over the steering spokes like spider legs emerging from a web.

"Sammy…"

"Yea?"

"It wasn't meant to be."

"I know."

~*~

They pulled into the wreckage yard just after dark, Bobby anxiously awaiting them as Sam pulled the tiny car up to the shop.

Bobby eyed them from under his redneck ball cap with the logo Big Johnson across the bill. They got out ever so stiffly walking up to the scrutinizing man.

"Looks like you boys got the shit beat out of you," he mused rubbing his stubbly chin.

"Yeah well you should see what they look like", Dean smiled his infamous smile.

Bobby laughed, adding. "The good Sheriff of Mansion wants you to know your welcome any day in his jurisdiction." He slapped Dean on the back raising a moan of pain from him.

"We won't be going back there", Sam said, suddenly moving past the pair stiffly, going into the bright light of the house.

Bobby and Dean shared a knowing glance.

"He just needs time, Dean."

"Time is a luxury we don't have", Dean mumbled despairingly.

"I got good news at least." Bobby's eyes sparkled raising a curious brow on the cropped haired man. "Found the parts you need to fix the car."

"Are you serious?!" Dean's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, clapping the older mans shoulder in glee, grunting for the effort.

Sam dropped his bag and fell rather than sat the cot in the backroom of Bobby's shop. Running his fingers through his thick curls he closed his eyes. He could see her beautiful face, her charming smile. Hear the quick wit in her lovely voice .He shook his head and ground the palm of his hand into his weepy eyes.

He pulled out the little silver cross that hung from the dainty chain.

She had talked about choices. Of... of strange things. It was as if a presence had spoken through her.

Dean and him had seen the demons, the darkness, the things people called evil. Stormy had said there was another side too. Her voice, her eyes had been filled with conviction... with faith...

Sam kissed the cross, let it slip back into the pockets of his jeans and walked out into the store, smiling as he heard his brother and Bobby chatting enthusiastically.

Perhaps the future would be what he chose it to be?

Both men went quiet as Dean smiled back. "You OK, Sammy?"

Bobby looked at the brothers noticing the tight bond cemented on their fathers death. Their eyes seemed ancient in such young faces. Both made of their family legacy, bonded by honour that rode their pact pledged on their father's name.

"I'm fine, Dean", He said softly, his brown eyes hopeful and calm.

"Great!" Dean returned enthusiastically. "Let's get to work then." He breezed past Sam into the shop where sounds of clattering metal met with Sam's puzzled gaze as he looked at Bobby. "What's he on about?"

"The car Sam, lets get to work on the car!" Dean yelled from within the shop before Bobby could answer. Another clang of metal coming from the brightly lit shop. Soon music blasted from an old beat-up cassette player. The band Asia screeching out "The Heat Of The Moment." Sam could See Deans head bobbing to the beat of the music.

"Let's go get her towed in", Bobby smiled clapping a hand on Sam's sore shoulder in passing.

"Ooww", he whined.

"Pansy", Bobby laughed as he led the way through the twisted maze of dead cars and trucks, eerie and ghostly in the semi darkened night. Sam looked around from time to time. He couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched.

~*~

The trio stood back and looked on the twisted wreckage now more sorry looking than ever under the shops bright lights. They all sighed in sad unison.

Dean went to the cherry picker with purpose than and began pushing the lifter towards the front of the car, grunting in pain. Sam quickly joined him pushing. "What does this do?" he asked.

Dean smiled patiently. "It lifts the motor so we can straighten the frame, Sammy."

They had the engine lifted before long and soon a rainbow of sparks flew out from under the chassis with Bobby on one side and Dean on the other resetting the frame torching the metal back into place.

Sam stood there fidgeting, feeling rather useless.

Deans grease smeared face appeared from under the car. "Get me the 7/8 wrench, Sammy", he mumbled disappearing back underneath.

Sam hurried to the chest of tools, totally confused he grabbed several wrenches hoping he had the right one rushing back to where Dean had looked at him. His brother re-appeared from under the heavy beast holding out his hand. One of the wrenches slipped banging his brother across the forehead.

"Dammit Sam! You trying to kill me?" Dean snapped at him, impatient and angry he didn't even grab the right wrench from the handful he had.

"I'm sorry, Dean", he mumbled his brow knotting as he leaned on the black metal of the car. "I never did this stuff… you know."

Dean felt instant remorse grabbing Sam's pant-leg and pulling him down closer. "It's OK, Sam… I just want to get her together soon as we can."

"So you can get past what happened?" Sam blurted, sitting now close to Deans prone form.

Dean sat up then, wiping his hands angrily. "No Sam, it's so my car is running again."

"Dad's car…" Sam whispered.

"Just what the hell are you getting at?" Dean burst out.

"It's OK to miss him, Dean. It's OK to be sad and let it out", Sam's voice was thick with emotion.

"You're not helping here, Sam", Dean's voice was tightly controlled as he got up and loomed over his brother.

Sam stood slowly looking levelly at his brother. "You can hit me if it makes you feel better." Watching the shock grow across Deans face.

"I don't want to hit you", Dean said, his voice even. "I want the car fixed. I want it to look like it did before the accident."

Bobby had sneaked out of the garage, leaving the Winchester boys alone. This was a thing they had to slug out on their own.

"Dean", Sam said softly. "The accident wasn't your fault, you know that right?"

"Yeah", Dean replied. "The truck came out of nowhere and hit us. If there had been anything I could have done to prevent it I would have."

"And you know dad's death isn't your fault either", Sam continued.

Dean turned his back to his brother, arms crossed in defiance in front of him.

"Dean?"

There came no reply. Sam sighed. He had hoped that after what had happened in the church Dean would have come out of the shell he had hid himself in. He tried again, not giving up.

"Dean, Dad died of a heart-attack. You had nothing to do with it. There was nothing you could have done that could have changed it."

At first Sam didn't think he would get an answer but then Dean spoke, still refusing to turn around and face him.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Sammy". His voice was hoarse, strangled.

"Then tell me", Sam whispered, wishing he could close the distance between them and hold his brother, giving him the comfort he so badly needed. At first he didn't think Dean would say anything, but then it came.

"Dad died instead of me. He made a pact with the demon, gave up his soul... It should have been me that died in that hospital and not him!" Dean's voice was raw, filled with pain. "So don't tell me I shouldn't feel guilty!"

"Oh Dean..." Unable not to, Sam stepped up to him and put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Don't." Dean's voice was hoarse, unsteady.

But Sam wrapped his arms around him, holding him close as a cry of rage and deep, deep sadness ripped through Dean's very soul. Sam felt the strong body shake as sobs wracked Dean. He leaned his head against his and just held him.

Sam closed his eyes tight… Their father hellbound… How could that have happened? Why was life so unfair? "Don't you see, Dean, dad did the only thing a father could have to see his children live. He would have it no other way."

Dean's sobs lessened as Sam held him. He felt helpless, bitter. Why was everything happening to them? Wasn't there any respite for everything they already had suffered?

"I'm tired, Sam", Dean murmured after a time still within Sam's arms. "It's like I've lived a dozen lives and none of them have accomplished anything...not really and I'm so tired."

He allowed Sam to turn him looking into sad grey eyes that held back fresh tears. "But you have Dean. You've saved dozens of lives, innocent lives", Sam stated factually, his jaw setting. "If there's a God, and how I hope there is… How can he not see what you have done for this messed up rock full of messed up people?"

"So what if we saved people? To what cost? We lost our mom and we lost dad. It's not worth it, Sam. And there is no God keeping his all-seeing eye on us. We're screwed, Sam!"

Sam shook his head softly letting his brother go. "I need to… No _have _to believe there is redemption for us. For dad." Looking up in the hypothetical sense that there could be a heaven, Stormy's faithful eyes flashing in his mind.

Dean shook his head once, violently, renewed anger filling his green eyes smeared in tears. "It doesn't work like that, Sam. He… he told me things… " His words were forced as he could not say more.

Sam stepped into him again. "Why don't you tell me everything, Dean?" he felt wild exasperation for his brothers overprotective nature. "God, why can't you just tell me!?" His voice rose with fear and anguish as Dean clenched his jaw slamming his fist into the car door.

Sam took an uncertain step back, confused. "Just tell me, Dean cause I cant take it anymore, no more secrets from me about you and Dad. I'm not a baby anymore and I'm not going to stand by and watch you go into meltdown."

Dean straightened up, squaring his shoulders. "Fine, little brother. You want the truth? Try this one on for size…"

Sam was staring at him as one would a stranger, unsure now he wanted to know all of it but he nodded affirming he could handle it.

It was as if every word Dean had to speak hurt, as if it were a dagger stabbed into his heart. "Dad told me... that there might come a time when I will have to... to kill you."

Sam's eyes went wide. "Because of the yellow eyed demon?" He asked, his voice calm.

"Yeah..." Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes filled with tears. "I have tried to convince myself that he must have been crazy... or something. But then you told me about the dreams."

Sam nodded slowly.

"So?" Dean demanded finally after the silence had stretched between them. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"What is there to say, Dean?" Sam asked softly. "We don't know what the future holds... Maybe there will come a time when you have to do it, maybe not. There is nothing we can do about that now. It's like it's a puzzle and we don't have all the pieces yet."

"How can you take this so calmly?" Dean asked, running fingers through his short cropped hair.

Sam smiled. He lifted his good hand and pressed it against Dean's chest over his heart. "Have faith, bro."

Dean blinked, surprising Sam by laying his own hand over his giving it a firm press. "I don't know what I would ever do without you, Sammy", he near whispered, giving his brother a gentle slap to the uninjured cheek.

Sam laughed, his eyes going bright. "You would end up whoring and drinking way to much more than you already do!"

Sam ducked as Dean made to slap him for real. "You are a pain in the ass, Sam, you know that." He laughed, the smile on his face bringing a special joy to Sam's heart.

"Now let's get back to the car!" Dean rubbed his hands briskly, getting his bearings of where he left off.

Sam was grinning as he picked up tools. "Can I still help?"

"Sure, so long as you don't off and coldcock me in the head again", Dean threw at him.

Bobby wandered back in holding coffee mugs. "Thought you boys could use a little boost", he offered as he eyed the pair. All seemed well with the Winchester boys once again.

They each took a steaming cup and toasted to the job at hand.

"Here's to getting the Metallicar back on her wheels", Dean said, taking a gulp of the coffee.

They worked through the night until both were too tired and sore to do anymore.

"Lets get some shut eye", Bobby croaked from where had finally sat a chair by the old furnace to warm his bones. "You can finish the motor work and paint her tomorrow, boys." He finally called on them, noting how pained and tired they were.

There was no argument on the subject as they plodded out the door, Dean giving the car one last glance before hitting the lights.

"Tomorrow we dance", He mumbled happily.

The end.


End file.
